


Oliver on Vacation

by TinaDay3W



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: & more smut, AU, Angst, Birds, F/M, Fluff, Light Bondage, Mountains, Psychiatric Therapy, Secrets & Lies, Smut, Squirrels, lemonade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-26
Updated: 2016-06-27
Packaged: 2018-04-17 09:51:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 294,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4662243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TinaDay3W/pseuds/TinaDay3W
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Olicity AU.  When Oliver Queen’s best friend, renowned psychiatrist Dr. John Diggle, encourages the stressed-out CEO to go on vacation, Oliver can’t believe Digg’s “vacation” choice is actually a psychiatric retreat nestled deep in the Blue Ridge Mountains.  Oliver simply doesn’t think he needs this kind of intensive therapy.  And he definitely doesn’t think he needs the attentions of Felicity – the frivolous, frolicking forest fairy who flits her way into his life and challenges all his assumptions.  What Oliver doesn’t know is that he’ll never be so happy to be proven wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. When Life Gives You Lemons

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Hey there lovely people! For those of you rejoining me after Felicity’s Sweet Revenge, yay and thank you! This fic is going to be another long one, since I have trouble getting a thought out in less than 90K words :). I’ve set this story in the woods (do you mind if we pretend that Starling City is in Virginia?) and I’m excited to share it with you because, as difficult as the Season 3 was to watch at times, I really liked the “identity” theme and I’m anxious to get my grubby little hands on it! Thanks in advance for reading while I wander off on this tangent – I can’t tell you how lovely it is to have your company :) Tina
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Arrow :(
> 
> Utter Praises: Sending out a loving, hugging, ginormous THANK YOU to the exceptionally lovely and talented Lisa (Quivering Bunny) for making my cover art!!! You are my queen :) Follow her @ quiveringbunny.tumblr.com. And come talk to me anytime @ tinaday3w.tumblr.com

 

Chapter 1:  When Life Gives You Lemons

Oliver Queen downshifted the gear of his sleek, silver Porsche, hearing the engine rev as it worked to scale the steep, barely paved incline with grace.  “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he muttered to himself, an uncharacteristic display of uncertainty for a man accustomed to issuing commands with authoritative comfort.  “I can’t believe Digg talked me into this.”

He controlled an involuntary cringe, still feeling weak for having given in to his friend’s unusual request.  Especially now, with his Porsche nagging at him in its efforts to maneuver the final deep hills toward Blissful Blue Retreat, Oliver questioned the necessity of this journey.  No matter what Dr. John Diggle thought, this mountainous trip couldn’t possibly fix what was wrong in Oliver’s life. 

“Blissful Blue is just a place for relaxation,” Digg had informed him a month ago, as he’d handed Oliver a beer and flipped on the television, turning his eyes to the basketball game.  “It’s absolutely gorgeous up there – just a bunch of log cabins right in the middle of the Blue Ridge Mountains.  So quiet and peaceful.  You’re the CEO of Queen Consolidated, Oliver, yet you never take a vacation. I think you’re allowed the same benefits as any of your employees.”

As he’d slumped down beside Digg on the couch, Oliver shook his head. “But this wouldn’t really be a vacation, would it?  It’s a psychiatric retreat.”

Digg had looked at him with his dark, knowing eyes, and sighed. “Call it whatever you need to, man. You don’t have to talk to a soul for the whole three weeks if you don’t want to.  But, if you want, there are group meetings and get-togethers, with working people, just like you.”

“You mean _patients_ like me, Doctor.”

“You’re not my patient, Oliver; we’re friends.  And don’t call me _doctor_. You always look like you’re going to vomit when you say that word.  _You’re_ the one who asked me what I thought you should do; _you’re_ the one who sought out my advice.  So now I’m telling you.  Take three weeks off of work – I promise the company will survive that long without you – and spend it up at Blissful Blue.”

“You actually think I need to be trapped in the mountains for three weeks with a bunch of psychiatric doctors and patients?  Isn’t that the premise of a horror film?”

Digg chuckled.  “You can’t do it, can you?”

“Can’t do what?”

“You can’t let go…even for a handful of days.”

“Of course I can let go.  That’s not what this is about. I just don’t think I need that kind of intensive therapy.”

“Well, if you don’t need therapy, then sit in your damn log cabin for three weeks and don’t say anything to anyone.  That’s fine.  Just so long as you’re away from here.  Because you need that, whether you want to admit it or not.”

“You’re wrong, Digg; I _don’t_ need that. And I _can_ let go.”

“Whatever, Oliver.”

Oliver remembered sitting there in Digg’s living room, staring at the basketball game on his friend’s big screen, fuming to himself over the fact that Digg had basically issued him a dare.  And yes, Digg was his friend and not his physician, but that didn’t change the fact that Dr. John Diggle was one of the most well-known and respected psychiatrists in Starling City.  And Oliver _did_ ask for his advice…and Blissful Blue was Digg’s answer.

Oliver huffed. “Alright, fine. I’ll go.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t.”

“I’m going, damn it!”

“Hey, if you want to go, then go.  I won’t stop you,” Digg said, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender. And then Digg laughed, and Oliver shook his head, because they both knew Digg had won that round.

Digg didn’t always win in the boxing ring at their gym, where they’d been beating the shit out of each other for years, but he often won when it came to personal dares. Oliver knew theirs was a unique relationship, more brothers than friends, and he trusted John Diggle with his life. But taking this particular vacation made Oliver feel like he was putting his life in a stranger’s hands, and he wasn’t sure if he could pull that off.  Even if John was the one asking him to do it.

That conversation with Digg had taken place a month ago, but still sounded fresh in Oliver’s mind.  Especially now, as he sat in the driver’s seat while his Porsche growled on its way up the steep trail toward Blissful Blue.  He’d spent the past month rearranging his appointments at Queen Consolidated, and ensuring the continuity of long-brewing business deals, as he’d planned this _vacation_. And he’d also spent the month continually questioning the sanity of this decision…and wondering what the hell kind of world he’d be stepping into.

As Oliver drove farther up the mountainside, he shook his head, trying to cope with the insane amount of hunter green color surrounding him.  He wasn’t paying nearly enough attention to the road – not until a squirrel darted out from the wooded underbrush, diving in front of his bumper. Oliver cursed and swerved, running the Porsche’s back tire into the gravel at the edge of the road and listening with dread to the ensuing explosion.  While the squirrel flitted safely across the street, Oliver tapped his brakes and pulled the car grudgingly over.

Due to the unbalanced skew of his windshield view, Oliver could acknowledge the fact that he’d blown a tire.  What he didn’t want to acknowledge was how badly this decision was already playing out. He didn’t believe in Fate – being fully capable of holding his life in his own hands – but it did seem as if someone was trying to tell him something.

Running a hand roughly through his hair, he stared briefly at his reflection in the rearview mirror.  His blue eyes looked weathered, their edges marked with subtle wrinkles that he heard gave a man ‘character’. His mouth was currently drawn, his lips pressed into a fixed frown, his teeth rigidly clenched as his jaw muscle twitched beneath his well-groomed stubble.

Was this the same face he’d seen in the mirror for thirty-four years? Were these the classically Roman features that were capable of both closing business deals and seducing women with little-to-no effort?  It couldn’t be…this face looked worn.  And weary.

Oliver forced himself to breathe.  He looked out to the road beyond his windshield, still overwhelmingly canopied by large boughs of evergreens, and reminded himself that he was supposed to be _on_ _vacation_. “Just fix the tire, Queen,” he grumbled, forcing the car door open. 

Early October made the air crisp, and everything smelled different. This was definitely not Starling City, even though he was still in Virginia and only a few hours away from home. But there were no exhaust fumes or skyscrapers here; there were only trees, and trees, and then some more goddamn trees, with no other vehicles in sight as far as he could see. Oliver knew this place existed on a map – after all, he’d looked it up with morbid curiosity a month ago, and then pretty much every day since – and yet the barely paved road seemed to originate from nowhere and continue steeply upward to nowhere.  And he was stuck exactly in the middle.

The slam of his car door reverberated eerily off of the surrounding tree trunks as Oliver made his way around the bumper to view the damage. The back tire’s tread lay slumped to one side, showcasing a shining metal rim and little else. Oliver sighed and moved to pop open the trunk, digging beneath the mat for a jack.  Within moments he was crouched low to the ground – the crisp white sleeves of his thick cotton shirt rolled above his elbows, the shine of his Italian leather loafers scuffed with dirt and gravel – as he set to work at his onerous task. 

Although hours at the gym made him physically powerful, not to mention hours of sparring with Doctor-Diggle-of-the-massive-biceps, Oliver discovered that the tire didn’t really give a fuck about how strong he was. So he cursed a filthy stream of repulsive words worthy of any self-respecting drunken sailor as he damned the lug nuts for their tenacity, thinking they were indeed _lugs_ in the most derogatory sense of the term. Then again, maybe _he_ was the lug.  And probably nuts, too…for even being here right now.

With a growl of effort, he finally loosened the last nut from its refuge. “Amazing!” he shouted, feeling as if _something_ was finally going his way.

“Thank goodness for small miracles,” an airy voice sang from behind him.

The light, unexpected sound startled him into dropping his wrench, and the tool missed pummeling his foot by centimeters, at best.  Oliver stood and spun simultaneously, facing the intruder that could easily have cost him a toe.  He was fully prepared to give the sly culprit a lecture on the atrocities of sneaking up on people, until his eyes caught sight of the offender. 

Then he zeroed in on her, and the words left him.

Stunning.

She was _stunning_. Oliver didn’t know if she struck him so deeply because of the fact that she’d materialized out of nowhere, or because she looked like she should be on the cover of a magazine. By the way she was dressed, it would be some type of jungle-safari magazine, but she would still deserve the cover.

A cropped, navy tank top and khaki shorts hugged her feminine curves and showcased a flat, bared midriff of flawless, cream skin.  Her eyes were a light, sky blue, her full lips were painted dark pink, and her smile was bright and gorgeous and perfect.  A halo of loose gold curls surrounded her face, reflecting the sunlight that now seemed to originate directly from behind her. She was simply the perfect combination of adorable and sexy, and dear God that sounded like the worst pick-up line he’d ever heard, but he’d be damned if it wasn’t true.

Oliver barely took note of the obscenely large digital camera that hung around her neck – the lens of which would make any normal phallic symbol green with envy – or the rugged brown climbing boots laced beneath her slender ankles.  Because seriously, who could care about manly footwear with legs like those above them? Legs that went on forever. Legs he could easily picture wrapped around him.  And Oliver considered, for the first time ever, that this vacation might not be a complete waste after all.

“I’m sorry if I startled you,” she spoke again, her voice soft and infinitely appealing.

Oliver blinked his vision into focus and settled his eyes on hers. “Oh, no, don’t worry about it. It’s no problem.”

“So, what is so amazing?” she inquired.

“Amazing?”

“As I stepped out of the forest, you said you found something amazing.”

For the life of him, Oliver couldn’t recall what had been amazing – not with such a woman standing before him.  He glanced to her left ring finger.  No ring. Potentially available. Although why someone wouldn’t have snatched her up long ago was a puzzle to him.

“Was it something to do with the tire?” she prompted in his moment of awkward silence.

“The tire?” he questioned, suddenly recalling the tenacious lug nuts. “Oh, yes. Yes, it was the tire.”

“Then I would have to agree.”

“About what?”

“About tires being amazing.  They’re so _round_.  I mean, who really thought of that first, anyway? So even and shiny and smooth – spinning round and round and round.  You stare at a tire long enough and it becomes rather hypnotic, don’t you think?”

Oliver frowned. Now he understood why she was single. She was crazy.

Well, what did he expect?  After all, he was only moments away from a psychological vacation spot, wasn’t he? At least, he hoped he was only moments away, because his hobbled Porsche wouldn’t make it much farther. “Is Blissful Blue Retreat up ahead?” he asked, pretty damn certain that she would have the answer.

“It is.  The information cabin is a quarter mile up this road to your left, and the guest cabins start after that toward the right.  You can’t miss it; there’s nothing else up here, really.”

Oliver nodded solemnly.  “So, you’re staying at Blissful Blue, I take it?”

“Yes, I am.” She grinned at him, her bright eyes wide and innocent. “Cabin 10.”

“And you’re, um, _on_ _vacation_?” he prodded as gently as possible, not sure if it was appropriate to ask a perfect stranger about their psychological status.

“Actually,” she replied as she glided smoothly toward him, “I’m working on a piece for _National Geographic_ magazine.”

“Really?”

“Yes. It’s a nature exposé. I’m trying to photograph a rare species of bird.”

_Wait – so she’s a freelance nature reporter and not a psychiatric patient?_  

Oliver relaxed his guard somewhat then, watching as she approached him with her golden hair moving softly around her shoulders.  Damn, she really was just beautiful.  “Working for _National Geographic_ is impressive,” he considered.  “What’s the name of your rare bird?”

She stopped walking when she was just a few feet in front of him. And then she stared at him for a long moment, her blue eyes looking deep into his, as she bit her lower lip in her teeth.  Oliver made every effort to not stare at her mouth, because he couldn’t be held responsible for what he might imagine doing with that mouth, and he still hadn’t decided if this woman was crazy or not.  But then she helped him make his decision by turning her round, luminous eyes up to his and grinning wildly. “The yellow-crowned purple fantini!” she shouted with unearthly giddiness.

Oliver’s eyebrow rose.  “That is an actual thing?”

“Oh, yes! One of the most beautiful birds in the world!  It’s found only here, in the Blue Ridge Mountains.  It has a deep purple body and a large, bright yellow cap of feathers that rise above its head when it’s angry.  Like this….”

Oliver watched with censured amazement, and no small amount of fear, as she raised her hands above her head, spreading her fingers out above her golden locks and wriggling them in the air.  And she smiled, with her eyes full of mirth and excitement, as if she’d imparted him with some miraculous knowledge.

His face contorted as he watched her.  He had no idea what horrific expression he was making, but it must have been pretty ridiculous, because she dropped her hands back to her sides and started laughing.

She tilted her head as she looked into him.  “Don’t you like impressions?”

“Um…” was all he could manage to say.

“Oh, I know! How about this one?”

Oliver remained frozen in place as she started flapping her arms, and moving her hands, and wriggling her hips, and clapping, over and over again.  Then she giggled like a winsome child, and he had no earthly idea what to say, so he just stood there.  He just stood there and watched her, with wide eyes and held breath.  And he returned to his previous, apparently astute, assessment. _This woman is crazy.  Totally, utterly, completely crazy._

Finally, after several rounds of the bizarre behavior, she threw her hands up in the air. “Oh, come on, seriously? I don’t even get a laugh for that? It’s the Chicken Dance! Everyone laughs at the Chicken Dance! I actually thought it was physically impossible to watch someone do the Chicken Dance and _not_ laugh.  Apparently, I was wrong.”

Oliver cleared his throat. “Well, um, it’s probably just that I’m in the middle of something important,” he offered, keeping his voice low and even, afraid to make any sudden moves.  “So I should probably just get back to it…I mean, get back to the tire. It’s a shame I can’t watch more of, uh, your _dance_ , but duty calls, you know?”

She made no move to leave, so Oliver reached down very slowly, picked the wrench up off of the ground, and held it out in front of him, offering her proof of his predicament. She stared at the tool in his hand for a long moment before peering around him to the heap of tread on the ground. Then her lips puckered and she whistled softly in a gesture reminiscent of _Leave It to Beaver_.  “Golly, that tire really blew.”   

“Yes. Yes, it sure did.”

“What on earth happened?” she asked, her eyes sparkly with implied intrigue.

Oliver resisted the urge to think she was delightful.  “Squirrel,” he stated.  “Darted right out in front of me.”  _Good Lord, how long is she going to stay?_

She nodded.  “Ah yes, the ever-darting squirrel.  Did you know that squirrels are the fastest land mammals?”

“No, I wasn’t aware of that.”  _Apparently she’s going to stay for a while._

Oliver considered the possibility that – if he became really, _really_ still right now – she might think he’d turned into a statue and then she would get bored and wander off.  But, on second thought, that was probably a terrible idea, because birds just fucking _loved_ statues, didn’t they? It was some sort of inexplicable opposites-attract thing.  And the statues always came out on the worse end of that particular relationship.

She continued to stare at him, for seconds that turned to minutes that possibly turned to hours, perusing his face as if searching for something she couldn’t quite find.  Then she licked her pink lips, and he focused in on her luscious mouth again…not because he wanted to, but because he was a man.  And because she was still just as gorgeous now as she was the minute she’d stepped out of the forest, even despite all the dancing.

Oliver shifted his stance from one leg to the next, fighting inwardly between the urge to dart away faster than a squirrel and the urge to pull her to him and lick those sweet, sexy lips for himself.  _Damn male desires.  Damn the crazy woman with the beautiful body.  And damn me straight to hell for even having these thoughts about her right now._

Oliver closed his eyes for a moment and concentrated on breathing.  When he reopened them, she was still staring at him.  And he didn’t know what to do, so he just stared back.

Then she broke the loaded silence with a single word.  “Felicity.”

“Felicity?” Oliver echoed.  He’d heard that term before. Felicity meant happiness _._

_Dear God, is this woman actually standing here right now, telling me to be happy? As if someone can just make the decision to be happy in one second, and then flip a goddamn switch and be happy?_

She extended her hand.  “Felicity,” she repeated.  “Felicity Smoak, pleased to meet you.”

“Oh, it’s…that’s your name.”

“Yup, that’s my name. Do you have one?”

“Oliver,” he replied without thought, taking her hand in a simple introduction that felt, at this point, almost bizarre. 

He gripped her hand firmly, with a powerful handshake perfected over a thousand board meetings, yet as he attempted to let go she held on. Her fingers were deliciously soft. Her eyes shone brilliantly. Her mouth curved delicately upward in a tantalizing smile. 

“Do you like lemonade, Oliver?” she questioned with a voice like pure sunshine.

He didn’t know if he liked lemonade.  He didn’t know much of anything at this moment – except that her skin was warm and smooth and her palm fit perfectly inside his.  “Yes,” he replied, still unable to extract his hand from her grip, although not trying overzealously to do so.

“Good. Then you’ll come to visit me. I make it fresh-squeezed, not out of a can like you get everywhere else.  Lots of cute little yellow lemons.  You’ll love it; you’ll see.”  She finally released her hold on him.  “You know, I’d offer to call someone to fix your tire, but there’s no cell service up here; I don’t even bother to carry my phone with me.  And besides, the nearest mechanic is all the way back at the bottom of the mountain and is closed on weekends anyway.”

“Of course,” Oliver said, because all of that somehow made perfect sense right now.

“Is there something I can do to help you fix it, you think?”

He had a sudden vision of her crouched down beside him, her golden hair tickling his arms, and her little tank top riding up on her skin, as she bent over to hold onto…something. “Um, no.  I appreciate the offer, but I’ll manage just fine on my own.”

Felicity shrugged. “Okay, well, I’m sorry I’m not more helpful. When you swing by my cabin, I promise I’ll make it up to you.”  With those words she smiled exuberantly, and it made Oliver wonder what she planned to do in order to “make it up” to him.  Because a smile that brilliant probably involved more than just the sharing of squished fruit.

He continued studying her carefully until she finally turned away, her hefty hiking boots thumping onto the pavement as she marched decidedly up the steep hill.  “See you soon, Oliver,” Felicity sang, her words carried to him on a light, cool breeze. She looked back only once, to give him a wink and a grin.

As she moved farther away, Oliver’s eyes focused on her bottom:  a perfect, reverse-heart-shaped ass that had his fingers twitching at his sides. “No,” he muttered to himself. “No touching.  No anything.  Not a normal person, Oliver.  Not normal.”

But as he sunk back to the ground, refocusing himself on the tire, he could still feel her skin against his fingers and see her smile in his mind’s eye. “Focus,” he reprimanded. “There will be no lemonade, or anything else.  She is out of the question.”

Deep inside, he knew that with certainty.

…

He spent nearly an hour putting on the spare tire. Not because it was exceptionally difficult, or because he hadn’t done it before, but because his treacherous thoughts ran elsewhere.  To Freebird Felicity, with eyes like the sky and a backside he wanted to eat dinner off of.

As Oliver finally guided his hobbled Porsche back onto the road, he reminded himself again that there could be no touching.  Touching led to kissing and kissing led to the bedroom and the bedroom led to relationships.  Not that he was opposed to relationships.  In fact, he’d been trying to make a relationship work – with one woman or another – for about as long as he could remember.  But he generally renounced relationships with crazy women…especially ones that he _knew_ were crazy right off the bat.

The information cabin appeared to Oliver’s left almost immediately, just as Felicity had said. _Welcome to Blissful Blue Retreat,_ greeted a worn wooden entry marker. Oliver pulled the Porsche into a roughly marked parking space, eased the keys from the ignition, and opened his briefcase, extracting his reservation paperwork.

He forced himself out of the car and up the steps of the cabin before his sound judgment could attempt to shake reason into him again.  The mahogany front door creaked as he eased it tentatively open, a forceful odor of cinnamon and pine wafting into his nostrils as he stepped inside the dimly lit dwelling that reminded him of an overgrown tree house. Warmth seeped beneath his skin, generated by a steadily glowing fireplace to his right.  Immediately before him lay a smattering of log-built benches with plaid cushions, and beyond that an oak counter grew up from the ground, housing deer antlers above it and a stout little man behind it.

“Hello, there,” the man called out.  “Welcome to Blissful Blue.  I’m Pete Jackson, the caretaker.”

Oliver approached the counter, noting offhandedly that Pete’s round cheeks and twinkling blue eyes, combined with his plaid shirt and red flannel vest, gave him the striking appearance of a garden gnome.  “Nice to meet you, Mr. Jackson,” Oliver offered the pleasantry along with his hand. “Oliver Queen, checking in.”

Pete gave a firm handshake, even as he smiled lazily.  “You’ve picked a great place to stay, Mr. Queen,” he assured, his aged voice soothing in a Grandfather Time sort of way.  “Plenty of rest and relaxation here.”

“That’s great,” Oliver forced himself to reply, even as his stomach clenched at the idea of wasted time and inertia.  Then he reminded himself of Digg’s words.  “This is just what I need.”

Oliver handed his reservation to Pete, and then watched as the man produced a detailed listing of daily Blissful Blue offerings:  counseling sessions, both group and individual; biweekly Retreat Socials; Spa appointments available with a phone call; and gourmet meal delivery services. Apparently, Oliver had arrived at _Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous – Deeply Wooded and A Little Crazy_.

“And here’s everything you need,” Pete finally offered, handing Oliver a packet of reading and registration information, complete with an electronic door card. “You’re in Cabin 9, up the hill to the right.”

_Cabin 9?  Crazy Felicity is in 10. How close will we be?_

“Thank you for your assistance, Mr. Jackson,” Oliver stated as he stuffed the card into his shirt pocket.

“Sure thing. If you ever need anything while you’re here, I’m the man to talk to.”

“I’ll remember that. Oh, and I assume there’s Wi-Fi in the rooms?”

Pete chuckled. “Nope.  Mountains don’t leave much room for that stuff.”

“You mean there’s no Internet access _at all_? That can’t be true. I know I read online that access was available.”

“Well, you can have one of them cords if you want to.”

“A cord?” _What is this, the Dark Ages?_

“Yep, but I don’t recommend using it,” the caretaker added.

“Why not? Will I be struck by lightning? Burn the cabin down?”

Mr. Jackson shook his head and stood from his chair, bending down to fumble beneath the counter. When he stood back up, he handed Oliver an Internet connection cable with more than a little dust on it. “Here you go, Mr. Queen. But can I offer you a piece of advice?”

Oliver’s brow rose, but he nodded.

“Don’t use this,” Pete said, tapping the cord with his stubby fingers.  “You need to disconnect from all of that hullabaloo and reconnect to what’s really important.”

_Hullabaloo? Did he actually just say ‘hullabaloo’ to me?_ Oliver grabbed hold of the cord and mustered a polite smile as he turned to leave.  “I appreciate the advice, Mr. Jackson.”

“You call me Pete, now. You’re not in the big city anymore. Things’ll be different around here. It’ll be good for you; you’ll see.”

Right at that moment, with those words, Oliver experienced a bout of sheer panic. A serious, palm-sweating, heart-pounding, gut-churning bout of absolute fucking _panic_. “Thanks,” he barked, forcing the word from his throat in order to cover the quaver in his voice. “I’m sure it will be.”

Oliver felt Pete’s kindly eyes boring into him as he moved swiftly back to the car.

…

He could have bolted, of course.  He could have driven his hobbled car, complete with spare tire, right out of these woods and back to civilization.  He wanted to. Damn, how he wanted to. But, at this point, it was a matter of pride. 

John Diggle had given him a dare – a _double dog_ dare, to recall the insipid terminology of his forgone youth – and, if he cowered away now, he could never live it down.  Because even if his parents believed he was on vacation in Cozumel with some friends from the office, and his office believed he was mountain climbing in Washington with his parents, Digg would know the truth.  He would look at Oliver with his unerringly perceptive eyes, and shake his head slowly and disapprovingly, acknowledging the fact that Oliver couldn’t do this one little thing that he had asked of him.  And, no matter what, Oliver knew he could not face that.

Cabins 4 and 5 passed idly behind him as he drove higher into the mountain.  He could practically hear John’s voice in his mind. _Try to relax, Oliver._

Normally, he would never even consider leaving a decision like this up to another person. His parents had raised him to be strong and independent, after all.  But, when he’d finally acknowledged that his life wasn’t progressing as planned, and that he had no clue how to fix it, and that he needed the input of someone who gave advice as a profession, he’d managed to ask his friend for help.

Honestly, Digg had always offered Oliver advice, on countless occasions throughout their years of friendship, in wise little sentences that Oliver could either take at face value or read the world into, as he saw fit.  But Oliver had never before asked for his friend’s assistance. Not until a month ago. And nothing specific had really brought the moment about.  They’d just been sitting there in Digg’s living room, getting ready to watch a basketball game, and Oliver had caught sight of the photo of John and his wife, Lyla, on their wedding day, and he just decided in that moment to ask Digg what he could do to make his life better. 

Thankfully, Digg hadn’t looked at him like he was crazy.  And he hadn’t told him to make an appointment and come see him at his office. He’d simply started talking about this place, Blissful Blue.  And then, before he knew it, Oliver had found himself rearranging his entire life to come here. Still, he hadn’t told another soul; this undertaking was going to be his little secret.

The Porsche made it all the way to Cabin 9 without any further misadventure.  And Cabin 9 appeared to be rather roomy.  At least, that’s what Oliver assumed as he visually inspected the exterior of his new home-away-from-home.  Parking in front of the porch steps, Oliver took his briefcase from the front seat and then exited the Porsche, slamming his door shut before moving to the trunk to pull out his suitcase.  Locking up the car, he took a deep breath and walked across the gravel driveway to the stairs.

The entire structure was made of logs, each one the definition of knotty excellence. Several large windows hung above the railings of the wrapped porch, inside which a weather-beaten rocking chair swayed softly in the October breeze.   Trees canopied the dwelling on all sides, and Oliver noted that the only way in or out was the gravel road that had brought him here.  With all this suffocating nature, he could barely believe that a modernized key-card entry system opened the door.  Yet, as he crossed the threshold, he realized that nothing else here would bear any resemblance to the real world…or life as he knew it.

The living room was large, although smaller than his.  What his spacious studio apartment in the city did _not_ have to offer, apparently, was the all-log construction of everything he saw before him:  the couch, the chairs, the desk, the kitchen counters, the doors, the floors, the walls, the ceiling. _Hell, is anyone here aware that other building materials exist?_

Closing the front door behind him, Oliver set his suitcase aside and carried his briefcase swiftly to the desk, holding his breath as he searched for the lifeline.  “Yes!” he celebrated as he located the wall outlet. Removing his laptop and situating it with great care on the desktop, he pulled out the cord Pete had given him and plugged it in.  Oliver sat on the red-and-green plaid cushion of the log chair for a moment, listening to the calming whirr as the computer sprang to life and promised to keep him connected to the real world. That promise enabled him to search the remainder of the house, and even unpack his things, without any further panic symptoms.

Night invaded quickly. Oliver made himself as at-home as possible, placing all of his personal items with great care into the log dresser, on the log countertops, in the log closets.  He’d been amused to find that the bathroom had a normal, ceramic sink basin and toilet, although the deer-antler towel rack made up for that in spades.  The towels were a dark, forest green, as was the bath mat.  Oliver shook his head at the log-ness of it all, and wondered offhandedly if _logness_ was a word and, if so, had there been sightings of a Logness Monster.  Up here, right now, he could see it happening.

After his toiletries were lined up properly in order of their usage – deodorant, toothpaste, toothbrush, shaver, comb and cologne – he returned to his computer and delved happily into his work email.  The world had not forgotten him, far from it.  Office situations were continuing on as usual:  items needing his approval, people requiring his assessment skills, and functions begging his control.  He found it easy to spend several hours at these tasks, achieving almost mindless simpatico with his keyboard and his thoughts. 

“I might not know how to make a relationship last,” he mumbled, “but _this_ I can do.”

Oliver had to shake his head then, knowing Diggle always told him that work was his “comfort zone”. That sure as hell was the truth. He thought – when he first began seeing McKenna so long ago – that he could change that.  In the end, he’d only proven it beyond a shadow of a doubt. In the end, McKenna hated his work. Yet she’d still wanted to marry him.

McKenna Hall had been perfect from day one.  Physically striking, socially alluring, intellectually stimulating:  she was everything he categorized in his mind as suitable. And she said she loved him. So why couldn’t he just agree? He wasn’t upset that she’d proposed instead of him; it was the 21st century, after all, and women did that. He simply came to understand that, when he looked _into_ her, she wasn’t who he saw himself with for the rest of his life. 

It was a crippling realization – that McKenna could fit perfectly into his cookie-cutter mold of what a suitable companion should be and he still couldn’t make it work out – and it finally forced him to acknowledge that the problem resided with _him_. He was thirty-four, after all. He was the CEO of a massively successful company.  He was generally thought of as financially desirable, physically attractive, and randomly amusing. So he should rightfully be married with 2.3 kids, or whatever.  He shouldn’t be sitting in a cabin, wondering if he was crazy…or worse, wondering if a crazy person would be beating down his door at any moment.

_Felicity_.

The name sprung to his mind of its own volition.  Freebird Forest Felicity, with the gorgeous eyes and the soft hands and the fantastic ass, was only one cabin over.  Oliver remembered too easily how she’d smiled at him – with unnerving beauty and more than a little mischief – when she’d invited him over for lemonade, and a _make-up_ for not assisting him with his tenuous tire repair. He had no idea what that make-up would entail, but there were parts of his body that wanted to sprint to her cabin right now, and pound on her door like a certifiable madman, until he found out.

Digg had advised Oliver, on more than one occasion, to be more adventurous in his choice of a woman, and to consider that the person he would truly fall in love with might not meet his preset ideals or require his active adjustments. Digg had told him that love wasn’t about changing a person; it was about finding someone who was already the right fit.  Oliver wanted to believe that, and he wanted more than anything to find the person that fit him, but he felt about 99% certain that crazy Felicity was _not_ that person.  After all, the woman thought tires were hypnotizing.  She performed chicken-dances in front of complete strangers. And she spouted random knowledge about squirrels.

Oliver stilled as the memory of Felicity’s disarmingly charming voice filled his mind.

_Did you know that squirrels are the fastest land mammals?_

That’s what she’d said to him, with her pale blue eyes all lit up and sparkling.  And she’d had him thrown so off-balance at the time that he hadn’t even thought to question her.  But there was just no way that could actually be true.

Turning back to his computer, he exited his email in order to Google “fastest mammal”. The results came quickly: the cheetah could sprint the fastest at 70 miles per hour; the Pronghorn antelope could sustain 60 miles over long distances; and the squirrel could manage a mere 12 mph. It _was_ faster than a chicken, at least. 

Leaning back in his log chair, Oliver stared at the ceiling for a moment and wondered why she’d lied to him. Did she honestly believe that squirrels were the fastest mammals?  Or was she making something up for the sake of conversation?  Or did she just enjoy lying?  And if so, did she only lie to him or did she lie to everyone?

Knowing he couldn’t possibly have the answers to those questions, and decidedly certain that he should _never_ ask, Oliver shut down his laptop and prepared for sleep.  He found the bed exceedingly comfortable, and the patchwork-quilt a soft, warm cover. Sleep readily overtook him, accompanied by wild, wacky dreams.  Dreams of tires spinning idly in the air.  And forest fairies, with blue eyes and gold hair, flying around his head. And squirrels zooming past him, stopping only long enough to tell him that he needed to get a life.

**A/N:** Hey guys!  I hope you've enjoyed this first installment; I'd love to hear what you think!  Up next...Chapter 2:  Lemonade


	2. Lemonade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies! Thanks so much for reading!!

The next morning started nearly the same as any morning in Oliver’s life – a hundred pushups, a hundred sit-ups, a shower, and then a sensible breakfast.  The only difference here at Blissful Blue, if he overlooked all of the logs and antlers, was that breakfast was gourmet, delivered right to his doorstep by a young man in a red hoodie, who nodded and grinned but didn’t say a word.  The breakfast tray also held an itinerary, and Oliver scrutinized the list of daily programs. Several group psychotherapy sessions were available, addressing various addictive personalities such as overeaters, smokers, alcoholics, and workaholics.  And, as if that wasn’t enough, individual treatment appointments were also available, with a mere phone call to Pete-the-gnome caretaker.  The call to Pete would need to be placed on the old-fashioned landline phone – which was situated prominently on the log coffee table – because, of course, there wasn’t any cell service up here.

Oliver harrumphed as his eyes scanned the list down to the final offering of the day: _5 pm…Retreat Social in the Common Cabin, number 13. Casual wear.  All guests invited.  Please attend_. He immediately envisioned a group of overweight chain-smokers passing around liquor bottles and handing out business cards.  An involuntary shudder ran the long length of his spine.  Did he really want to get himself into that?  And what if crazy Felicity was there, toting a basket of lemons and performing another bird dance?

Oliver set the paper aside, finished eating, and placed the empty food tray back on the porch for pickup. _No, thanks,_ he thought to himself, internally planning a day of solitude with his computer.

 _You’re not keeping your mind open to new possibilities, Oliver_ , Digg lectured.

 _Just not today, Digg_ , Oliver responded to the disembodied voice in his head before settling down in front of his laptop.

Hours later, after managing every possible office decision of which he was capable at this distance, after eating a healthy lunch and making his dinner selections, and after staring at a particularly odd knot of pine on the wall that somehow resembled his tenth grade Algebra teacher (who’d given him a D, for crying out loud), Oliver could still hear John’s voice.

_Go to the Social, Oliver.  No one will bite you. They’re just people. People like you, overworked and in need of relaxation and companionship.  Go._

“Nope,” Oliver replied aloud, standing from the plaid-cushioned chair and stretching his legs. He jogged in place for a minute, increasing his heart rate.  Then he walked around the inside of the cabin, examining his new surroundings in more detail.  He opened all the drawers in the kitchen.  Pushed all the buttons on the stove and the microwave.  Marched into the bedroom and straightened all the clothes he’d placed in the drawers the night before.  Moved into the hallway and opened up the closet. 

Oliver paused then, while staring into the hall closet.  He’d expected to find some linens, and perhaps a few extra rolls of toilet paper. But instead, he saw stacks and stacks of board games situated on the shelves.  Monopoly, Life, Risk, Twister, Sorry, Scrabble…the list went on and on. And Oliver just stood there, looking at the games, for the longest time.  Until he realized that every single one of them was intended for at least two people to play. 

“There’s not even a deck of cards for playing Solitaire,” he grumbled. 

 _That’s because you’re not supposed to be sitting all alone in your cabin_ , Digg’s voice returned.  _Go to the damn Social, asshole._

“God, alright, Digg,” Oliver growled, unsure if he’d ever heard his friend call him an asshole before. “But just this once, and if I don’t like it, I’m leaving.”

He pulled on his shoes and grabbed his car keys, walking out of the front door and stepping onto the porch. “I don’t have to stay if I don’t want to,” he mumbled beneath his breath.  The words comforted him for approximately two seconds, at which point he saw his Porsche, with its pitiful spare tire, sitting on the gravel driveway. Oliver sighed. He knew that darting squirrel had been trying to tell him something yesterday…he just didn’t know what. Shaking his head, he pocketed his keys and decided to hoof it rather than force the Porsche to endure any further humiliation.

Scenic perfection surrounded him as Oliver scaled the steep incline toward the Common Cabin 13, but he barely noticed the wooded beauty, because an unusual level of anxiety rose into his chest as he realized he had to pass Cabin 10 on the way. Felicity’s driveway came closer with each step he took, and his footing faltered.  Would she be there?  Perhaps standing by the roadside, shouting some ritualistic birdcall?  Or possibly squatting down, waiting to catch a glimpse of the hypnotizing revolutions of passing car tires?

Oliver swallowed down a lump in his throat, of equal parts fear and excitement, as the cabin emerged on his right.  He risked a peripheral glance down the gravel path as he continued by.  No crazy Felicity.  No bird dancing.  No golden hair and gorgeous smile.

Oliver continued to walk, moving onward toward Cabin 13, and yet his footsteps slowed.  Something welled inside his chest, and he couldn’t quite identify the emotion coursing through him, but he had to admit it somewhat resembled…disappointment. 

_Is that possible?  Was I actually hoping to see the certifiable woman again?_

No, it couldn’t be. He knew better.

And yet here he stood, apparently disappointed that she hadn’t been waiting for him by the side of the road, chickens and all. Oliver shook his head. _Why the hell am I disappointed?  It doesn’t make any damn sense._ He considered a multitude of reasons for the unwelcome emotion, and then he huffed. _It has to be the lying.  That has to be it. Her lying to me is an injustice, plain and simple._  

Oliver gritted his teeth as he begrudgingly acknowledged the fact that her act of dishonesty had lodged itself inside his brain, niggling at him and inciting him to see her again, when he damn well knew better.  _I shouldn’t.  I shouldn’t turn around and march down this road, back to her cabin, and then bang my fist insistently on her door until she has no choice but to open it. Definitely not. I should stay away from her. Far, far away._

Except that he couldn’t. He couldn’t stay away from her, because she obviously needed his help.  She needed to understand what she’d done wrong, and it was up to him to inform her. It was up to him to correct her egregious errors, because really, who else was going to do it? Certainly not Pete-the-caretaker. After all, a gentle geezer garden gnome would _never_ tell a beautiful bounding bird to settle down and be more practical.

“Ridiculous!” Oliver shouted out loud as he came to a halt shortly after passing Cabin 11.  “This is ridiculous!”  Felicity lied to him!  _Blatantly_ lied to him!  About _squirrels_ no less!

“You alright, buddy?” a deep voice spoke from behind him.

Oliver spun toward the sound, focusing in on the dark haired, athletic looking man emerging from Cabin 11’s driveway. _What is it with people around here sneaking up on me?_

“Can I help you?” the man asked, looking at Oliver with noticeable pity in his eyes.

 _Oh hell_ , Oliver realized, _this man thinks I’m crazy!_    “No, no,” he reassured the stranger.  “I’m just…I’m fine.”

“Okay.” The man nodded at him, grinning boyishly.  “Tommy Merlyn,” he offered, extending his hand to Oliver’s.  “I’m heading to the Social.  Are you?”

Oliver gave Tommy his best, commanding handshake, even as he inwardly seethed at Felicity. “Oliver Queen. Pleased to meet you, Tommy. I _am_ heading to the Social, but I just realized that I forgot to do something. Don’t you hate it when that happens? It feels ridiculous, right?” Oliver hoped his words would disguise the morbid display of frustration he’d shown by shouting to himself on the side of a deserted road, but Tommy still observed him with wary concern.

“Things do feel ridiculous sometimes,” Tommy placated as he reached out to pat Oliver sympathetically on the shoulder.  “But just try to take it easy while you’re up here, okay?”

“Sure will,” Oliver replied through tight lips, forcing a smile as Tommy nodded at him before moving on up the road.  Inside, Oliver’s gut roiled.

_My God, that man thinks I’m insane!  And it’s all Felicity’s fault!  She made me look like an idiot!  She needs to understand that lying to people simply isn’t acceptable! You can’t just do that and then live with a clear conscience!_

The next thing Oliver knew, his feet began stomping back down the road, leading him toward Cabin 10 before his mind could overcome the urge.  A moment later, the gravel of her driveway crunched beneath his shoes as her cabin rushed toward him.  Oliver noted offhandedly that Felicity’s cabin was much bigger than his, and even had an attached garage, and then he wondered if Pete gave her the bigger place because the little gnome harbored some sort of freaky fetish for bird-women. And then Oliver shook his head again, because that was a fucking ridiculous thought…which was, once again, all her fault. 

_Holy hell, why would she chicken-dance in front of a complete stranger? Why would she tell me that she’s a National Geographic reporter, when she’s obviously a patient, just like me? And what about the squirrels? How could she smile at me so sweetly and then just lie about something so ridiculous?_

Oliver reached the front porch of her cabin and bounded up the stairs.  He lifted his hand to knock, poised to hold her accountable for her crimes. But the door opened before he ever got the chance to bang out his anger against the logs.  And there she stood – Forest Felicity – in all her glory.

Oliver’s mouth opened as he decided whether to offer a haughty greeting first, or just dive right into her well-deserved scolding.  But then he took a good look at her…and he said absolutely nothing.

God, he’d forgotten just how remarkable she was.

“Oh good, Oliver, I was hoping it was you,” Felicity chirped, smiling brightly into his eyes as her entire body hummed with energy.  “I’m telling you, that gravel driveway is the best alarm system ever created.  Not that there’s anything to be alarmed about up here.”

 _Another lie_.  She was more alarming than ever – from the loose gold curls eased behind her bare shoulders, to the curves of her breasts outlined with sensuous detail by the light blue satin camisole that matched her eyes, to the slim, sculpted legs easing from her ivory capris down to her bare feet and pink painted toenails. The sight of her set off so many alarm bells inside his head that he could barely hear his own thoughts.

“Well, don’t stand outside all day, Mr. Talkative,” Felicity directed as she reached up to take hold of the hand that he had, apparently, left suspended in midair. “Come in, come in.” She led him, tugging his body into her cabin and kicking the door closed behind them, all while keeping her fingers curled into his. 

She pulled on him until he stood before her in the middle of her spacious log living room, holding her hand and staring into her eyes like a love-struck schoolboy on a playground. Felicity gazed up at him and grinned. “I know just why you’re here, Oliver. This is about what I said to you yesterday, isn’t it?”

His brow furrowed. _Is she talking about the squirrel comment?  Does she feel guilty about it now?  Is she actually going to apologize for lying to me?_

Oliver observed her expression. She didn’t look the least bit remorseful. She didn’t look at all guilty. She looked entrancing. And frisky.  And mischievous. 

Oh hell, he’d forgotten about the “make-up” session she’d promised him for not helping to fix the tire. Lord, what exactly would _that_ entail?  From the look in her gleaming eyes, it could be just about anything.

His body reacted compulsively then, stimulated by the thought of her feeling indebted to him in some way, and he had to remind himself to calm down.  _No, Oliver.  No touching_.  Except, apparently, for holding hands – because he hadn’t yet brought himself to extricate his large, rough fingers from her dainty, soft ones.

Felicity stepped closer then, even though mere inches separated them to start with, and her breasts brushed lightly against his chest.  “No one can resist, you know,” she whispered.

Her lips were candy pink and beyond temptation.  Oliver stared at them. He absorbed the perfect poutiness of her mouth’s subtle contours, imagining how softly those lips would mold beneath his, how warm and inviting she would taste if he could just slip his tongue….

Oliver reared back, redirecting his vision to her eyes. 

Felicity wasn’t smiling anymore.  She was looking into him, and Oliver knew that she knew _exactly_ what he’d been thinking.  Then she licked her lips, just slightly, which rendered him completely and utterly mute. It occurred to him then that he hadn’t managed to say a goddamn word since he’d arrived, and he had no idea what she thought of the silent, skulking stranger standing in front of her.

A long minute passed before Felicity grinned again.  “I’m talking about the lemonade, of course.  I’m sure that’s why you came.”  She finally released his hand.  “And you’ve never had any better; I can assure you.  Just make yourself at home and you’ll be in heaven in no time.”

 _Heaven_ , he considered.  Or perhaps hell. It would depend on his point of view, of course.  Watching her well-sculpted derriere swish away to the kitchen, he considered some heavenly possibilities. Too many possibilities. More than he cared to admit.

But then he forced himself to refocus on the reality of her – the sheer and utter craziness factor – the bird dances and round tires and squirrelly lies.  That should be plenty enough to keep his animalistic desires in check, and to remind him of why he’d come here.  Once he’d said his peace, Frivolous Felicity would certainly not be tempted to lie again with such recklessness.

Straightening to his impressive height, Oliver folded his arms across his chest and attempted to glare formidably.  He’d certainly had years of practice glaring, whenever he’d needed to get a business point across, or tell his parents that they should take more care in choosing their retirement activities. But somehow, as he watched her, he couldn’t muster up the necessary glaring-gumption.

Felicity was dancing again, but it wasn’t the Chicken Dance this time.  Instead, she wriggled her hips and hummed a delightfully happy little tune under her breath as she opened the refrigerator door and whipped out a full gallon pitcher of lemonade.  She rested the jug onto the counter and then spun around, still moving giddily to her own music, twirling over to a cabinet from which she pulled two glasses.  Her flourished sliding maneuver back to the freezer for ice was nearly his undoing.  

Oliver averted his eyes for a moment, knowing he needed to complete his mission before she sidetracked him any further.  “You were mistaken, you know,” he barked as he looked back to her.  He sounded like an ass, even to himself.

Felicity didn’t stop dancing. “No, I wasn’t,” she sang, continuing to hum as she poured the opaque concoction into the glasses. “This really is the best lemonade you’ve ever had.”

Oliver shook his head. _I’m not talking about the lemonade_.  He opened his mouth to correct her, but found it watering instead – with the sultry sight of her backside as she bent over to put the pitcher back into the fridge.  Damn it, that was the best ass he’d ever seen.  _For the love of all that’s good, Oliver, control yourself!_ He attempted to focus, yet again, as she turned toward him, hoisting the stately glasses and sauntering forward.

In the next instant, she stood before him, her arm outstretched with her sunshine-yellow offering, and his mind fought for clarity.  “Thank you,” he managed to say as he accepted the glass.  He raised it to his lips and took a huge swig as he mentally prepared the proper and thorough reprimand she required. 

But then everything came to a screeching halt.  Because this wasn’t lemonade. For a split second, he thought she’d drugged him.  But then his taste buds screamed as Oliver realized exactly what he’d ingested.

He nearly spit out the entire gulp onto the floor.  The sickly sour affront of straight lemon juice stabbed his tongue, causing a near gag reflex that he could only subdue by smacking his lips together like an elderly man missing his dentures.  His saliva fermented as he swallowed again and again, attempting to cleanse his shocked palate.

“Holy hell, Felicity! This is pure lemon juice! Pure, undiluted lemon juice!”

She grinned wildly.  “I _know_!  It really wakes up your mouth, doesn’t it?”

He stared in blatant disbelief as she lifted her glass to her pink lips, took a huge swallow of the foul liquid, stilled for a moment, and then shook gleefully while a shiver ran the length of her body.  “Hoo-wee!” she squealed. “That is _wild!_ Everything feels so _alive_ , right?”

She watched him expectantly, obviously desiring some validation of her own giddiness, yet all he could think was that she’d deceived him.  Again.  Even that adorable button nose wouldn’t save her this time.  “You lied to me,” he snapped, his voice deep and stern as he willed away the sour pangs in the back of his throat.  “And not just now, with the lemonade, but also yesterday by the roadside. You told me squirrels are the fastest ground mammals, and that’s not true.  They aren’t even close to the fastest.  They only run 12 miles per hour.”

Whatever he expected her reaction to be – sorrow, guilt, or shame – it wasn’t.  She simply looked into his eyes, staring deep inside him in the most unsettling way, as a little smile curved the corners of her mouth.  He got the bizarre feeling that she could see right into his soul, and the thought shook him, because he didn’t want anyone looking that far inside.

“Cheetahs are actually the fastest,” he continued, suddenly feeling the need to fill the empty air with words.  “Also, the Pronghorn antelope is quite fast.”

Felicity just kept staring.

Oliver felt himself backing down – an emotion as foreign and unsettling as any he could recall – yet he couldn’t overcome the need to soothe her wounded ego, whether she required it or not.  “Squirrels are, at least, faster than chickens,” he added before he could stop himself.

Felicity reached out to take the lecherous lemonade from his hand.  Pivoting, she rested both glasses on the living room table and then turned directly back to him.  She stepped forward, closing the space between them until she filled his senses. She smelled of fresh soap and tiny flowers, her light blue eyes sparkled like jewels, and her lemony breath eased softly from her lips with every exhale.  As she raised her arms toward him, he heard a warning in the back of his mind that sounded an awful lot like, _“Run away now!”_   But he stayed very, very still.

Her small hands landed on his shoulders, resting firmly against him, as if she had every right in the world to touch him.  She stood toe-to-toe with him, looking up into his eyes with a sweet smile on her lips. He definitely should have run when he had the chance.

“Tell me something,” she invited. “Who are you?”

 _What?_ The warmth of her fingers seeped through his shirt and he had to clear his throat to speak.  “I’m Oliver.”

“Mm-hmm.” She kept watching him, obviously waiting for something more.

 _Like what?  What does she want to know?_ “I’m the CEO of a very successful company,” he added, trying to remind himself that he didn’t owe her anything.

“Wow, the CEO. That means you’re the boss.”

“Yes.”

“Like, the _boss_ boss.  The top dog. The head cheese.”

“The head cheese? Really?”

“And being the _boss_ boss means that a lot of people are counting on you to make the right decisions, all the time.  It places a lot of burden on your shoulders.”  Her eyes drifted down to her hands as her fingers moved softly across the same shoulders she’d just spoken of.

“I can handle it,” he insisted, unused to getting this sort of response from a woman. Most women who met Oliver Queen became instantly predatory, with hungered looks and clawed fingers. They definitely never looked at him like Felicity did now, tilting her head and nibbling her lip and obviously concerned for his wellbeing.

“I’m sure you can handle it, Oliver. But even so, I imagine it’s a lot of stress.”

“It’s fine; the job isn’t a problem.”

“What does the job entail, exactly?” she inquired, her hands now moving slowly over his arms, tracing all the way down to his wrists.

Oliver’s eyes shifted to her fingers, watching in fascination as she repeated the path of her touch, smoothing her hands up and down his arms, from his shoulders to his wrists and back again.  Her fingers were dainty, her nails painted green, her skin warm and smooth and lulling. “I’m, um, well…I’m the boss, like you said.”  He forced his gaze away from the sight of her hands so he could focus.  “I keep everything in order.  I keep every _one_ in order.”

“Ah, I see. So basically, you make your living by telling other people what to do.”

“Well, when you put it that way, it sounds…”  Oliver caught himself before he started back-pedaling.  “Yes, actually, that is one way to look at it.”

Felicity continued the slow, methodical movement of her hands as she looked back to his face. “Hmm.  Well, you obviously have a commanding presence. And a deep, authoritative voice. And seriously intense eyes. So I imagine people do whatever you tell them to do.  Willingly.”

Her lips were too close. Too close and far too kissable. Just one wouldn’t hurt, right? Just one kiss. Just one touch of his mouth to hers. Just one little moan from her throat that would tell him how on fire she was…just the same as him. He knew she would bend into him so easily, her breasts crushed to his chest, her shapely arms wrapped around his neck, her fingers in his hair.  She would whimper and writhe as his hands ran down her back, all the way down, until he could grab two handfuls of her perfect…

Oliver blinked his eyes. _Focus and speak!  Say anything!_ “I’m damn good at my job, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“No, I’m asking something completely different, and you haven’t answered.”

“Answered what?”

“The question.”

“Which is?”

“Who are you?”

“I told you.”

“No, you didn’t. You told me your name, and what you do for a living, but you didn’t tell me who you are.”  The soothing movement of her hands continued, up and down his arms, over and over again, and Oliver realized that the touch felt somehow familiar. “I know that you don’t like lies,” she continued speaking in her soft, pleasing tone.  “And you don’t like swallowing lemon juice. But I don’t know who you are – not completely.”

“I think everyone dislikes lies and lemon juice.”  _Good Lord, I know why her touch feels familiar! This woman is petting me right now! She’s petting me like I’m an animal! Why in the hell is she doing that? And, goddamn it, why am I letting her?_

“No, Oliver, not everyone dislikes lies and lemon juice.”  Staring into him, Felicity seemed to consider a thousand possibilities in the span of seconds.  “You don’t really know who you are, do you?”

He opened his mouth to protest but she continued speaking before he had the chance.

“It’s alright, of course. A lot of people don’t. You should come with me sometime, into the woods.  It’s wonderfully peaceful there. Great for reflection. It might help you figure yourself out; I imagine that’s why you came to Blissful Blue anyway.”

 _Stop petting me._   “No, that’s not why I came at all.”  _And of course I know who I am._

“Then why did you come here?”

“I...I…” he struggled with the words, knowing the truth made him sound ridiculous.

“Yes, Oliver?”

He shook his head and exhaled. “It was a dare, okay?” he admitted, because damn it, he was _not_ going to lie to her.

Her entire face lit up with a brilliant smile.  “You actually came here on a _dare_?”

“Basically.”

“Was it, like, a game of _Truth or Dare_?”

“No, it wasn’t a game. It was a suggestion…from a friend.”

“Must be a really good friend, I take it.”

“The best.”

“Hmm, a best friend who can convince you to do something you obviously really, really don’t want to do.  That’s pretty impressive.”

“Yes, he is impressive, and so I asked his opinion, and he gave it to me, and now I’m here. End of story.”

“Actually, I think that’s just the beginning of the story.  But, I must admit, I’m curious as to why you would trust this friend so much.”

“Because he’s a psychiatrist. A damn good one.”

“Really? Does he have a name?”

“Dr. John Diggle.”

Her eyes widened for a moment, and then she chuckled beneath her breath.  “You’re John Diggle’s best friend?”

Oliver narrowed his gaze. “Do you know Digg?”

“Yes. He comes up here to Blissful Blue sometimes, to provide counseling sessions.  He stays for a few weeks at a time and sees patients.”

 _Patients like you_ , Oliver realized.  _Hell, had Digg treated her in the past?_ “How often do you come up here, Felicity?”

“Often enough,” she said, shrugging as she dismissed the topic.  “But this is your first time, Oliver, and you need to get as much out of it as possible.  Because I’m afraid John won’t be able to convince you to come back again, and that would be a shame.”

“Why would that be a shame?”

“Because you could really use the therapy here.”

His mouth dropped open at the insinuation that _he_ was the one in need of counseling, when here she stood before him, knee-deep in all her crazy, squirrely, lemonade-lies. 

“I don’t need therapy, Felicity.  That’s not why I’m here. I’m just…I’m on vacation.”

“On vacation,” she echoed.

And then the strangest thing happened.  With those two little words – _on vacation_ – her entire demeanor changed.  Her hands dropped from his arms to lie limply at her sides.  Her blue eyes lost their spark.  And her beautiful lips turned down at the edges.  “I’m on vacation, too,” she whispered, her sweet voice now edged with distress.

Oliver froze, hardly believing what his eyes and ears told him.  Was Felicity _sad_?  Was she having a normal human emotion, like _regret_?  He hadn’t thought her capable, yet here she stood:  her normally bright eyes now lackluster, her normally bouncy body now staid.

_What the hell?_

She pulled away from him, picking up the lemonade and moving back to the kitchen with her head hung.

“You’re on vacation?” he questioned, following eagerly on her heels, wanting to see how long this moment of lucidity might last her.  “I thought you were on assignment for _National Geographic_.”

Felicity stopped in her tracks. She set the glasses down on the kitchen counter.  Then she let out a high-pitched squeal.  “The yellow-crowned purple fantini!”  She spun back around to him, with giddy joy filling her eyes once more.  “That bird and I have a date with destiny!”

In the next instant, she laughed and jumped up and down and wiggled, dancing in front of him as if shaking troubled thoughts out of her body. 

Oliver knew, with utmost certainty, exactly what he should do at this moment.  He should run away.  He should bolt in the opposite direction, because she’d turned back into Frivolous Freebird Felicity faster than he could blink. 

But he didn’t run. He ignored everything his brain told him in order to move toward her.  He focused in on her face, wishing like hell that he could see Solemnly Sedate Felicity for just one more minute, just to know for sure that he hadn’t imagined her.

Her eyes rose to his as he came to a stop just a few inches away from her.  “I wish you would come with me,” she said, refocusing on him as excitement oozed from every pore of her vivacious body.   “I go out in the mornings and sit quietly in the woods, just waiting for him and his cute little feathers and all that chirping and whistling. Would you like to come, Oliver?”

He stared at her, looking hard into her eyes in the hopes of catching a glimpse of that other woman inside her.  The one who looked sullen and serious. The one who seemed to be far more in touch with reality.  But all he could envision, while looking deep into her beautiful sky blue, was a flitting fairy, chicken-dancing by the side of the road.  At that moment, he chose to take a step back.

“No, thanks,” he answered, able to regain his control now that she wasn’t touching him, now that she wasn’t overtaking his senses.  “Actually, I had best be going.”

“So soon?”

“Yes. I have…things to do.”

“Oh. Of course.”

She took a step toward him and Oliver retreated.  Turning away, he hurried toward the door, silently admitting a fear of having her too close. When he reached for the handle, he felt her hand cover his.  Oliver looked back to her and watched her entire face brighten as she stood by his side, smiling up at him. 

“Please come back anytime, Oliver. My door is always open to you.”

“I appreciate that,” he said, realizing it was the truth.  Even though he knew he should never return.  “Good night, Felicity.  And good luck with…the bird.”

“Thank you.”

As he turned to leave, his hand slipped from under hers and felt instantly cold.

...

 **A/N** :  Hey there!  I hope you're enjoying Oliver's little journey so far - I'd love to hear what you think!  :)Tina  

Up next...Chapter 3: Twister


	3. Twister

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings awesome people! How are you fairing after those promos? My heart is still aflutter! So, here's the new chapter and I must admit it's a bit of a monster...but I'm hoping it's like the Cookie Monster, and not like the Jabberwocky or a Dementor - Eek! :)

Oliver slept poorly that night. He didn’t even attempt to go to the Social, because Felicity had been enough new territory for one evening. Or for one lifetime. He’d also had no desire to see Tommy Merlyn again, after the man had witnessed Oliver talking to himself like a homeless person. 

Honestly, the entire situation last night had gotten completely out of control.  All Oliver intended to do was to find the little forest fairy, hold her accountable for her various atrocities, and then come away from her cabin feeling the victor after correcting the grievous wrongs perpetrated against him.  Instead, he’d just stood there while she played with him, and while she petted him, and then he’d left with his tail tucked securely between his legs. 

He should never have allowed Felicity to sidetrack him.  He should never have let her think that he didn’t know who he was.  And he should never have let her touch him. God, she’d just kept touching him – over and over again.  But he hadn’t moved away; he hadn’t told her to stop.  If anything, he stayed right where he was, so she could keep touching him. He wanted her to touch him. He wanted it last night; he wanted it now.

_Damn it, this isn’t normal.  What is wrong with me?_

Oliver had certainly desired women before, and he’d enjoyed many, in carefully manipulated moments. The women were beautiful, the pleasure mutual.  But they didn’t occupy his thoughts incessantly.  He didn’t dream about them at night.  Not like he’d dreamt about _her_.

Oliver wasn’t exactly sure where the dreams came from.  Maybe it was just because she was the last person he’d spoken to before bed.  Maybe it was the heavy, decadent dinner he’d thoroughly savored after the lemon-mouth fiasco.  Or maybe it was simply because he hadn’t been with a woman in sometime; after all, he’d only allowed himself one brief involvement since he and McKenna separated over a year ago.  He honestly didn’t know why he’d dreamt about Felicity; he only knew that her tempting body cemented itself into his mind for the entirety of the night.  Hell, he’d needed fifteen minutes just to calm himself enough to pee this morning. 

Everything about the little fairy distracted him.  Everything about her haunted him.  And what he needed, more than anything, was to find a way to regain control of his senses.

Oliver took a few quick bites of his gourmet breakfast and then walked back to his bedroom, throwing on a T-shirt and shorts and grabbing his room card before heading out to Blissful Blue’s gym.  As he marched down his gravel driveway, Oliver thanked the heavens that the gym facilities were to the left in Cabin 6, and not to the right toward Felicity’s 10. Because, apparently, he couldn’t be held responsible for where his mind went, or how his body responded, when he was around her.

Starting down the paved road toward the gym, Oliver took a deep breath in.  The air was crisp, and cleaner than he’d probably ever experienced, even on all of his outings with Mom and Dad through the years. The evergreen boughs shaded his every step, allowing the sun to peek out for seconds at best. It was beautiful, he considered, knowing that anyone on the planet would reach that conclusion. Still, he was grateful when he arrived at the gym, eager for the kempt air.

A few people were already in the thick of morning workouts as Oliver used his room card to gain entry to the facility.  Rather larger than he expected, the gym held nearly every type of cardio and weight training equipment he’d grown accustomed to at the Starling City gym where he’d met Digg almost a decade ago.  Oliver wished Digg were here now, so they could use each other as punching bags, because Oliver wanted nothing more than to expend some of the energy his body was focusing on thoughts of Forest Felicity. 

The mere consideration of her brought instant pictures to his mind’s eye, an invasion of color led by her bright gold hair and pink, smiling lips.  Oliver shook his head, frustrated by his inability to remove her image from his brain, as he stepped to a treadmill in the corner and began a slow jog that escalated quickly into a full-on run.  The other occupants of the gym smiled and waved to him in passing as he worked out. Oliver nodded cordially, wondering if he would have seen any of them had he made it to the Social. None of them appeared to be overweight, chain-smoking, boozing workaholics, but then again the gym attire didn’t lend itself to business cards, either.  Even so, he had to admit that these people – psychiatric patients though they must all be – just looked like _people_.

Maybe he wasn’t the only sane one, surrounded by lunatics.  Maybe they were all sane.  Or maybe he was blending in nicely as one of the lunatics.

As the treadmill shook under the weight of his muscled body, Oliver watched in mortification while the door to the gym opened and Tommy Merlyn stepped inside.  “Oh, shit,” Oliver grumbled, hoping Tommy would ignore him so he wouldn’t have to revisit the embarrassing encounter from the previous night. But, of course, Tommy saw him immediately and nodded.  Oliver returned the gesture, trying to look as normal as humanly possible while secretly hoping Tommy wouldn’t feel the need to talk to him.

In the next instant, Tommy made a beeline forward, not stopping until he stood next to Oliver’s treadmill and glanced idly at the workout timer.  “I never understood why they have treadmills in here,” Tommy noted, crinkling his eyebrows as if contemplating an unfathomable mystery of the universe. “There are miles and miles of road outside to run on; I’d think that would be much more refreshing.”

Oliver shook his head stiffly. “I don’t do nature.”

“Yeah, it does get pretty to easy to forget that nature exists when you’re hard at work.” Tommy looked up and smiled. “You know, I realized after talking to you last night that you said your name was Oliver _Queen_.  Are you the Oliver Queen of Queen Consolidated?”

Oliver slowed to a trot to speak easier.  “Yeah, that’s me.”

“I’ve heard a lot about your company.  You’re doing an amazing job as CEO.”

“I’ve got my father to thank for making the company what it is,” Oliver admitted. “And you’re Tommy _Merlyn_.  Would that be Merlyn Global?”

Tommy’s blue eyes twinkled as he grinned.  “Yep, that’s us.”

“You operate out of New York, right?”

“The main offices are there, where my dad works.  But I plan to head up the new Starling City branch we’re looking into.”

“Yeah? Well, you’ll have to give me a call when you get to town, then.”

“I’ll do that. But we shouldn’t discuss it here.”

“No? Why not?”

“Because this is Blissful Blue. This is the only place in my world where I _don’t_ have to talk about business.”

Oliver’s footsteps slowed even further.  “Did you actually fly all the way from New York just to come here?”

“Absolutely. I come here as often as possible – three or four times a year if I’m able.  I take it this is your first time?”

“How did you guess?”

“Well, no offense, but you looked pretty wound up yesterday.  It reminded me of how I looked the first time I came here.  It took me a while to realize what was missing from my life.”

This statement made Oliver stop running entirely.  Tommy was roughly his height, roughly his build, jovial, personable, and an executive, also. If Tommy had found what was missing in his life, then perhaps he’d actually solved one of the mysteries of the universe.

Oliver held perfectly still as he stared Tommy in the eye.  “What did you find missing?”

Tommy shrugged. “Appreciation,” he said. “I know it sounds awfully cliché, but it really is the little things that matter, you know? You get all involved in business dealings and the mundane day to day absolutes, and you forget to appreciate all of the little things that make life so damn spectacular.”

Tommy flashed a perfectly straight, sparkly-toothed grin, and Oliver stared at him in utter disbelief, unable to fathom how Tommy could look so damn happy while leading basically the same life that currently had Oliver questioning everything. _Appreciation. Bah, humbug._

“Hey, how about you get off of that contraption and join me in a little one-on-one?” Tommy goaded, bending down to retrieve a basketball from a nearby bin and spinning it idly on the tip of his finger.  “I promise I’ll take it easy on you.”

Oliver chuckled. “Don’t you dare. I can hold my own.”

“Oh, we’ll see about that,” Tommy promised as he led Oliver outside to the waiting basketball court.

Within moments of hitting the blacktop, Oliver knew he’d found a friend in Tommy Merlyn. Tommy was fun and uncomplicated and easy to talk to.  And he seemed to have his life together, which was a trick Oliver desperately wanted to learn. On top of all that, Tommy was a pretty good basketball player.  Although Oliver had no intention of letting him win this game.

Oliver blocked one of Tommy’s shots, and then watched as Tommy goofily faked a foot injury before sneaking behind Oliver to steal the ball and dribble it niftily between his legs. “And that’s how you pull a one-two fake-out,” Tommy announced, grinning as he shot and missed. “It’s a lot more effective, however, if you actually make the basket.”

“Sure, I could see that.” Oliver chuckled, rebounding the ball and dribbling around Tommy’s back.  Out of the corner of his eye, Oliver saw a dark-haired woman come out of the gym and move to the bench next to the court, stretching her finely toned legs. She wore a tightly fitted purple jacket, black shorts that barely covered her butt, and a wicked little smile. She watched them play for a moment, and her eyes met his briefly before she bent forward to touch her toes, causing her miniscule shorts to rise up even further, giving Oliver an interesting and rather inviting view. 

Oliver shook his head and turned back to the game, shooting the ball and swooshing the basket with expert precision.

“The score is officially tied,” Tommy announced, catching the ball from under the net. “And we’re being watched,” he added under his breath.

“I noticed that.” Oliver glanced back over to her. Their female onlooker was exceedingly attractive, with long, straight brown hair and a slender yet shapely figure, and Oliver knew his entire body should be paying attention to her. But it wasn’t.

“How about the next shot is winner-take-all?” Tommy suggested.

Oliver nodded. “Sounds good,” he agreed, refocusing as Tommy took a shot.  Oliver blocked it easily, catching the ball and dribbling back toward the basket.

Oliver wasn’t about to allow this woman to distract him from winning this game of hoops, even if it was just a friendly little competition.  She’d have to be far more alluring in order to deter him from his mission. She’d have to be…well, she’d have to be Felicity.  Frolicking Freebird Felicity, with the gorgeous smile and the mouth-watering ass and the eyes that could look straight through him.

Oliver’s fingers twitched with the thought of his forest fairy and the ball wobbled out of his hands. Tommy picked it up and pivoted, shooting perfectly.  As Oliver watched the ball drop through the hoop, he cursed and shook his head, knowing he’d lost the game. “That was a damn fine shot, Tommy. Well done.”

“Hmm. I feel a little guilty, really. You would have beaten me fair and square if you hadn’t been distracted by our lovely spectator over there.”

Oliver ran a hand roughly through his hair.  _God help me, she wasn’t the woman who distracted me._ “Maybe you could give me a chance to redeem myself sometime?”

Tommy grinned. “Love to,” he replied, motioning his head toward the limber brunette as he lowered his voice. “I already met this woman at the Social last night.  She’s CFO of a weapons development company out in California.  She’s smart, beautiful, and more than a little scary…the whole package, really. Come on, I’ll introduce you.”

Not wanting to appear rude, Oliver followed Tommy toward the bench where the woman manipulated her body with stretches that didn’t seem quite human.  She straightened and smiled as they approached.  “Hello again, Tommy.  Nice game,” she offered with a piercing stare.

He took hold of her hand and kissed it.  “A pleasure, as always, Helena.”

“And who’s your friend?” she added, moving her intent gaze to Oliver.

“Oliver Queen – Helena Bertinelli.”

“Pleased to meet you, Oliver,” she purred as she extended her fingers toward him.

“And you,” he replied, shaking her hand with utmost brevity.

“Sorry I distracted you from your game,” Helena offered with a coy smile.  “I certainly didn’t mean to make you fumble the ball like that. I was only stretching before my run.”

“No need to apologize.”

“Alright. Well, I’d best be on my way. Would you boys like to join me on the trails?”

“Of course!” Tommy leapt on the invitation before turning expectant eyes to Oliver.

“No, thanks. You go on ahead,” Oliver insisted. “I’ve already had my run today.”

Tommy’s brow rose. “You sure, buddy?”

Oliver got the strangest sensation that Tommy was asking his permission to pursue the beguiling brunette. “Absolutely sure, Tommy.”

Oliver nodded politely to Helena just before she turned away, then he looked back to Tommy to catch the wiggle of his eyebrows and the wink of his eye that stated in no uncertain terms that Tommy intended to go after Helena in more ways than one.

“I’ll see you again?” Tommy questioned as he began jogging backwards.

“Yes. I will have my revenge,” Oliver chided, watching as Tommy ran after Helena, whose shorts revealed more flesh with every bounce of her feet.

Oliver stared after them, with no reaction from his body whatsoever to the sultry quivering of her exposed skin.  He wondered, for the second time today, what was wrong with him.  Helena was certainly attractive enough – the gorgeous hair, the fit body, the freakish flexibility – and knowing that Tommy was interested would normally make her even more attractive, if only for the challenge of the game. But, as Oliver watched her leave, he felt absolutely nothing.

And then the most amazing thought occurred to him:  Helena reminded him of McKenna. McKenna, the woman he’d spent years learning about and being intimate with.  McKenna, the woman he’d almost married.  Yet here he stood, with a potential McKenna in arms’ reach, and he couldn’t drum up interest if he tried. 

McKenna had been cookie-cutter perfect, and Helena might be also, but Oliver didn’t want that. He didn’t want the flawlessly formed cookie. Not today.  Today he was in the mood for a lump of dough with a hell of a lot of sprinkles on top.

“Damn it,” he grumbled, wondering when in the hell half-baked had started to look appealing to him.

But then again, he already knew the answer to that question. 

 ...

Morning was completely over by the time he returned to his cabin, and Oliver sighed in relief. After Felicity’s invitation last evening, he’d half-expected her to be waiting on his front porch, demanding that he accompany her into the woods for…whatever she did in the woods.

Did he want to know what she did in the woods?  _Maybe._  

 _No._  He did _not_ want to know.  He needed to keep up his resolve. 

_Stay away from her._

He showered, he dressed business-casual in pleated khakis and a short-sleeve navy button-down, he ate his gourmet lunch, he turned on his computer.  Several emails awaited him, but surprisingly fewer business matters than the day before.  Diving in head first, he sought out further work to occupy himself with, even things that didn’t necessarily demand his attention.  He worked until night began to fall, and the familiar sound of the food truck’s wheels crunched onto his gravel driveway.  _Best alarm system in the world_.

Oliver opened his front door before the delivery boy had a chance to knock.  “Thanks,” Oliver said as the young man in the red hoodie handed over the tray with a stiff smile and a nod.  Then the boy pivoted and marched off the steps, back to the truck.

“He’s not a big talker,” Oliver mumbled to himself as he brought the tray in and settled it onto the log coffee table.  He sunk down onto the plaid couch cushions and took a good look at his feast:  glazed lamb with roasted potatoes and vegetables in a thick béarnaise sauce, accompanied by a bottle of red wine.  He would definitely have to work out again tomorrow.

Taking a bite of potatoes, he reached for the itinerary accompanying his meal. _Blissful Blue events for tomorrow:  8:00 Breakfast gathering in the dining area…10:00 Group therapy session: “How to Find Your Inner Calm” by Dr. Quentin Lance…14:00-18:00 Individual therapy sessions.  Please contact Pete Jackson at the front desk for registration._

Oliver sighed as he set the paper down beside him.  He didn’t need this amount of therapy.  He only came here because Digg asked him, not because he needed to. This was a dare rather than a desire, and he would be damned if this place was going to make him question himself.

 _You don’t really know who you are, do you?  It’s alright.  A lot of people don’t_.

Oliver harrumphed at the sound of Felicity’s voice inside his brain.  Of course he knew who he was.  She was just…she was just…. 

What _was_ she doing, anyway?  _Challenging_ him? Seeing if he would buckle beneath her insults to his psyche?  Seeing if he would accept her _lying_ to him? Seeing if he would sip pure lemon juice out of her hand and do _nothing_ about it?

Rising restlessly from the couch, Oliver began pacing the cabin, eager to direct his mind elsewhere. What was there to do around this godforsaken place?  Was there _anything_ to do that _wasn’t_ related to psychotherapy?  He could go to see Tommy, he supposed; Tommy was in Cabin 11.  He could just walk there…although Helena might be with Tommy and Oliver didn’t want to interrupt anything.

_Lemon juice!  Good Lord, she had me drink pure lemon juice!  She outright challenged me and I just cowered away!_

Oliver suddenly understood what had happened last night.  He and Felicity had been two gunslingers – standing on opposite sides of a corral, with tumbleweed rolling by – waiting for someone to make a move. And she shot first, and he took one right in the gut.  _Literally_ , his gut reminded him, his mouth puckering with the thought.

Oliver stilled as he stared out of the window at the blackening sky.  Felicity had gotten the better of him, plain and simple.  His jaw clenched as every fiber of his being revolted against the thought of being conquered.  Especially during a war he hadn’t even realized she’d waged.

“Holy hell,” he growled.“I’m going back, aren’t I?  I’m going back to see her again.”

Only this time, he would be prepared.  She was not the all-knowing, powerful Oz.  She was nothing to be frightened of, or to hide from.  He was the CEO of a Fortune-500 company, for crying out loud. He could take whatever she could dish out, and even dish some of his own.  After all, she’d shown him a vulnerable side yesterday. It was only a tiny glimpse, but he saw it.

Oliver flew out of his front door before he could second-guess his decision.  He didn’t even see the outrageous number of trees surrounding him as he walked, because all his mind could see was the instant of vulnerability he’d witnessed in Felicity last night:  the far-off look in her eyes that suggested she might have an inner sane person.  What had he said that made her act normal, even for that brief second?  Simply that he was _on vacation_. Nothing else.  But she’d repeated the words almost reverently, and turned away from him for the first time. 

Nothing about that moment made sense to him.  Why would those two little words reach her in such a way?  Why would she care about that simple thought, when the fact that he’d called her a liar had been a footnote on a thousand pages? 

His feet were already crunching down her driveway before he considered that he _had_ , in fact, called her a liar.  That was rude, he supposed, even if it were true.  Most people would have been quite angry and defensive. But not Felicity.

“She’s not going to beat me this time,” Oliver assured himself as her cabin loomed closer and closer. “I’m on to her game now. This time I will stand my ground.”

His foot slipped on the gravel as he bounded up onto her front porch.  Oliver corrected his balance quickly and poised himself to knock. But, of course, the door opened before he had the chance.  And there she stood.

Her hair was pulled back into a high ponytail today, with a few wayward strands hanging down to her shoulders. Her shirt was pale pink with a deep V that showcased more skin than he should have seen.  The shirt did, at least, cover her midriff, being tucked into a little pair of jeans that hugged her in a perfect silhouette. But tonight, her bare toes were red instead of pink. 

 _Do you paint your toenails everyday?_   The question popped into his mind, but he didn’t have the chance to ask, because she instantly reached out, grabbed his hand, and pulled him inside, before he could form another conscious thought. 

Felicity closed the door quickly and immediately stepped into his personal space. “Oh, thank God you’re here, Oliver,” she breathed with nervous energy, her fingers trembling as they gripped onto his. “I desperately need your help.”

He stared at her, his heart skipping a beat.  _Is she in trouble?  Having some sort of delusional episode?  Why did I come here again?_   “Is everything okay, Felicity?”

“It’s better than okay! Just _look_!”

Oliver followed the line of her pointing finger as she drew his attention to the wall on the opposite side of the living room, where she’d hung a new picture – of a tree. “Um, wow,” he offered, unsure of the response she desired.  “Did you take that photo?”

“Yes, yes!” Felicity nodded vehemently as she pulled him toward it.  “What do you think? Is it straight? I feel like I’ve been staring at it for two solid hours, trying to decide if it’s straight or not. You can’t gauge anything by the knots in these log walls.”

Oliver smiled despite himself as they came to a stop in front of her new artwork. “Yes, the walls are a problem,” he agreed, glancing down to her face.  He watched her for a long minute, watched her staring up at him with her sparkling blue eyes and innocent smile, and he completely forgot every thought he’d had before now. Because the only thing he wanted, right at this moment, was for her to be happy.  So he used his free hand – the one not tangled up with her dainty fingers – to reach to the wall, moving the frame a millimeter to the left. “There,” he assured. “It’s completely straight now.”

“Oh, thank you.” She sighed heavily, as if the weight of the world had been lifted from her shoulders.  Then she raised her eyes back to his.  “Sometimes you just need someone to help you, you know?”

He nodded. “I suppose everyone does.”

She grinned with his words, and gazed sweetly up to his face, and the impulse to wrap her up in his arms was overwhelming.  How could she manage to look so damn vulnerable when he knew for a fact that she was a spitfire? It was only a picture of a damn tree. But Felicity was a picture, too. A picture of beauty, unlike anything he’d experienced before.

“Do you like the view?” she asked in a whisper.

How could he not? Looking at her could be a hobby of his. Despite her personality, or maybe because of it, he could find no fault in anything he saw before him. “I love the view,” he admitted.

Felicity giggled blissfully. “So you see the bird, then?”

“The bird?” _Do you have a bird tattoo?  Where is it? Can I see it?_

“In the picture! The yellow-crowned purple fantini! I took the photo just this morning!”

Oliver spent a moment registering her thought process before he turned his attention back to the wall. Feeling a little silly for thinking she’d been asking him about her own appearance, he finally released his hold on her hand in order to approach the new portrait.  He stared hard into it, but all he saw was a tree. And even that wasn’t really in focus. Good Lord, she was a really bad photographer. “Um…” he stalled, hoping beyond hope that he would discern something else.

“It’s right there!” She moved up to his side again, pointing to a spot in the photo that appeared to be a concentration of sunshine reflecting off of a blob of leaves.  “I know it’s not exactly in focus, but I have to admit I got so excited that I was shaking the camera from sheer nerves!”

Oliver concentrated harder. He wanted to see the bird. He actually _really_ wanted to see it.  But there was nothing but blurs of green and a smidgeon of yellow. He cleared his throat. “The picture is…it’s really something, Felicity.”

“Thank you, Oliver. Thank you so much.” She smiled vibrantly as she looked up at him from her position beside his shoulder, locking her blue eyes with his. “I wish you’d been there. The whole forest was amazing this morning, just full of life.  So still and calm at times, and then other times the noises can fill your ears to bursting. Did you know that there are over 400 species of trees in the Blue Ridge Mountains?”

The warmth of her breath tickled his skin as she spoke, and he barely registered her words. “No, I didn’t know that.”

“You should really come with me tomorrow.  I’d be happy to pick you up, bright and early, so we could walk my little path together. I know the exact spot I was in when I took the picture.  Maybe, if we’re very lucky, the fantini will return and this time I can snap a photo without shaking like a child!” 

Her exhilarated laughter was infectious, her body hopping slightly up and down beside him, her breast brushing his arm.  He wanted to turn to her and crush her to him, to kiss that adorable, silly grin straight off her lips.  He wanted it so badly that it actually scared him, and the intensity of the fear finally sobered him.

Oliver forced himself to look away. He stood very still instead, staring at the photo, and at the frame nailed to the wall.  He willed away his freakish desire for her, a desire that took hold of him against his better judgment, against _any_ judgment, and threatened to overtake his semblance of calm.   He could be calm around her. That would be the only way he could even begin to participate in this war of wills.  The war she’d mastered so skillfully that he’d barely even noticed it taking place.  Squirrels. Lemon Juice.  Questioning his psyche.  He would not let her win again.

Oliver stared at the photo – no bird.  He stared at the frame – nailed to the wall. 

And then it finally struck him.

“ _Felicity_ ,” he growled as he looked back to her, “you have _nailed_ this photo to the _wall_.” 

She peered up into his eyes. “Yes, of course I did. How else do you expect it to stay up there?”

He huffed. “But this is _private_ property.  You don’t _own_ this cabin, do you?”

“No, I don’t own it.”

Oliver glared down at her. “Well, you can’t just go around nailing your own pictures into walls that aren’t yours.  Did you ask permission to do this?”

Felicity returned his stare for a long, lingering minute, and then reached out to grasp both of his hands in her own, turning him to face her.  “Oliver, are you actually going to tell me that you think one little nail hole could possibly matter in a wall that had more knots, holes, and twists than a minefield?”

“That’s not the issue,” he stated, wishing for his own peace of mind that she wasn’t holding his hands, or standing so close.  “This is about principle.  You’re on private property and you’ve defaced it.”

“Would you be happy if I said I’d buy some wood spackle before I left?”

“I don’t know. Would you do that?”

“No. But I just wonder if that would make you happy.”

“Not if you’re lying to me again, it wouldn’t.”

Felicity sighed, her shoulders falling, and Oliver instantly regretted his words. Yep, he’d called her a liar _again_.  Certainly, she would be upset by it this time. There was just no way around it. She might even slap him.

She didn’t. She simply stared into his eyes, stared and stared, until he shifted his feet.  She was looking _into_ him again, in that harrowing way she had, and he wasn’t sure he wanted her to see anything. He didn’t believe she needed to know more about him than he did.

“Hmm,” Felicity murmured after several minutes.  Or possibly hours. “There is something about you, Oliver, something…”

“What?”

Crinkling her nose, she seemed about to sneeze when instead she said, “Closed.”

Oliver arched an eyebrow. “What’s closed?”

“You are. You’re just…closed.”

“I am not closed.”

“Yes, you are. Do you know why you’re closed?”

His mind reached back sixteen years.  He forced the thought down. “I’m not closed.”

“How is your relationship with your parents?”

Oliver choked out a laugh. “What is this? Are you learning some psycho babble being encased up here at Chez Nutjob?”

Felicity shook her head. “No need to get defensive. If you have nothing to hide, simply answer the question.”

“Mom and Dad are great,” he stated, determined not to let her get the upper hand again. “We have a wonderful relationship, they have an amazing marriage, and I love them both dearly. They raised me with every advantage.”

“And where are they now?”

“Mountain climbing in Washington.”

“ _Mountain climbing?_   Really? How old are they?”

“Just turned sixty. Their birthdays are only two days apart. The trip was a gift to each other.”

“Amazing. I hope that I’ll be climbing mountains when I’m sixty.”  She smiled radiantly for a moment, but then her brows scrunched.  “But you’re not, are you?”

“I’m not what?”

“Climbing mountains with your parents.”

“No, I’m here.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t like climbing mountains.”

“Well, if you think about it, you had to climb a mountain to get here.”

“No, I drove a car to get here.”

“I know why you climbed a mountain to get here, Oliver.”

“Oh, really? This should be good.”

“You climbed your way here because you’re closed…”

“I’m not closed.”

“…and you realize that you would rather be open.”

“And are you going to _open_ me, then, Felicity?” He drilled the question into her eyes with a fierce glare, wondering how she would come back from the purposefully tempting suggestion.  But, as he eyed her with his steel gaze, he realized he hadn’t ruffled her feathers even the slightest bit.

Felicity wasn’t flummoxed or flustered.  She wasn’t anything he expected anyone to be.  Honestly, he had no fucking clue _what_ to expect from her, and it unnerved him on every level.  So, when she stepped even closer to him, he held his breath as he waited to see what she would do next. 

The little forest fairy extracted one of her hands from his and reached up to his face. She touched him, her fingers smoothing slowly across his jaw, and Oliver had to actively resist the urge to close his eyes and sigh against her soft skin.  Then her hand trailed down, over his neck and onto his shoulder, before she began tracing another one of her rhythmic, methodical paths, up and down his arm.

_Dear God, she’s petting me again.  And I’m letting her.  Again._

“Do you play Twister, Oliver?”

He stared at her for a long minute, working to register her words through the soft, plying touch of her fingers. “What?”

“Twister. You know:  spin the arrow, right hand on blue, left hand on yellow. Twister.”

Oliver was at a loss, but for only a moment.  He knew what was happening right now.  Felicity was challenging him, trying to throw him off-kilter with her little flight-of-ideas superiority. But he wasn’t having it. She wouldn’t conquer him again so easily.  “Yes, I play Twister well, actually.  You’d be hard pressed to beat me.”

She grinned, her eyes twinkling. “Well, now, that’s the spirit! Where does that competitive nature originate, I wonder?”

“Four years of football in high school.  A coach that drilled us all day, every day.”

Felicity moved away, finally pulling her hands from his body as she walked to the hall closet and began rummaging inside.  He tried to ignore the fact that he could still feel her fingertips against his skin.

Her closet-muffled voice traveled down the hallway.  “Did you play football in college, too?”

Oliver winced involuntarily. Thankfully, she hadn’t seen him cringe; otherwise, she would surely have called him on his display of weakness. “No, I didn’t,” he dismissed. “So, where’s this Twister?”

“Here!” she yelled, raising the box triumphantly in her hands as she closed the closet door. “I love all the board games they put in these cabins.  It’s just good, back-to-basics fun, you know?”

Felicity sauntered back to the living room and Oliver wasted no time pushing the coffee table out of the way so she could unfold the large plastic game mat and shake it out over the throw rug.  Oliver shook his head at the familiar sight from his youth.  He couldn’t believe he was about to play Twister with crazy Felicity.

He watched intently as she knelt down to straighten each corner of the mat, crawling on her knees and stretching her body in order to achieve the perfect symmetry of plastic against the floor.  Her pink T-shirt pulled up out of her jeans as she moved, revealing an inch of perfect, creamy skin across her low back.  As Oliver watched her bend and wriggle, he had to clear his throat for some reason. Actually, he knew the reason. He just didn’t want to acknowledge it.

Finally finished with her task, Felicity sat back on her heels.  She peered up at him from the ground with one eyebrow raised. And then she sat there and stared at him, waiting for him to read her mind.

“What?” he grumbled, wondering what ridiculous thing she wanted him to do next.

“Um, I was just hoping you would take off your shoes?”

“Oh,” he said, shaking his head. “Yes, of course.” He kicked the offending loafers off to the side of the couch.

“Thank you, Oliver. It’s just that you’re quite a bit bigger than me, and I would really hate to have my toes crushed, especially since I just painted my toenails today.”

“They’re adorable.” Oliver’s jaw clenched. _Damn it, I didn’t mean to say that out loud._

Felicity tilted her head and beamed up at him from her crouched position.  “I’m glad you like them,” she said, although her voice was almost a whisper.   Oliver saw a slight blush in her cheeks, and his jaw unclenched.

Felicity looked back to the Twister mat, her eyes focusing on the bright primary circles beneath her. “I’m so excited that we’re going to play this!  I haven’t played since I was a teenager.  Do you want to spin or should I?”

_God, does it matter?  The whole room is spinning, isn’t it?_

Oliver shook his head, flustered by how ferociously he wanted to touch her.  Even though he was absolutely certain that he _shouldn’t_ touch her.  Except for the fact that they were about to play a game that would _require_ him to touch her, over and over again.  It would require him to constantly feel the warmth of her body against his…and _not_ lose his mind.

 _Come on, pull it together, Queen!  You can handle this!_   “By all means, you spin,” he offered, mentally steeling himself for what was about to happen.

“Yay!” she squealed, giggling before giving the little plastic arrow a thorough beating. He watched her body quiver with anticipation as the arrow finally pointed to _right hand – blue._   Then she smiled up at him, waiting until he knelt down and placed his hand in the middle of the blue dots. Her hand came down immediately next to his.

Felicity spun again. _Left hand – green_.  They complied, their bodies side by side as they spread their arms to accommodate their instructions.

_Right foot – blue._

Oliver immediately placed his right foot next to his right hand, but because Felicity had chosen the blue beside his she was now left with little option.  She could twist her body to get her right leg over to the blue dot on her left…or she could straddle him.

She chose the latter.

Hoisting her leg over his back, she reached the very edge of the next blue with the tip of her painted big toe, stretching fully to try to maintain her hands on the appropriate dots while doing so.  Oliver was encased beneath her, feeling her chest and stomach against his back, able to sense the increased inhalation and exhalation that caused her breasts to rub against him.  She felt warm and soft, just like he knew she would, and he closed his eyes as her sweet scent of fresh soap and tiny flowers wrapped around him.  He breathed in deeper, trying to capture the smell he already knew as hers, but the motion only made her chest come into fuller contact with his back, and he wasn’t sure how long he could maintain this position before various parts of his body began to respond aggressively to her proximity.

 _Relax_ , he commanded himself.  He was not prepared to lose another battle of wills, or wits, with her. He quieted his mind and waited for her to spin again.  He waited a while.

“Um…” she finally spoke after several moments traipsed across his back, “I’m so sorry, but I can’t reach the spinner thingy.”

“Would you like me to get that for you?”

“If you would be so kind,” she answered, her tone quite noble, considering she required only a saddle to be officially riding him.

Oliver eased his fingers out and spun, returning quickly to his previous position as he saw _right hand – red._

They lunged simultaneously, her chest plopping down on his back, and they both collapsed onto the mat. Oliver felt the thud of her body on top of him, felt her legs straddling his hips, and he immediately flipped over inside the embrace of her thighs in order to look at her. Felicity resituated herself on his lap as he eased up onto his elbows and stared into her face. “I won,” he announced, trying to ignore the fact that she’d perched herself on top of him and didn’t appear to have any plans to fly away.

“ _You_ won?  How do you figure that?  You hit the mat first.”

“Only because you made me. I would have kept my balance if you’d kept yours.”

“I disagree.”

“Me, too.”

“Hmm…” she considered, her legs still pinned around his waist.  “I guess that calls for a rematch then.”

“You’re on,” he replied, refusing to back down.

“Yes, I am.” She nodded, glancing down to his chest and back to his eyes with a little smile.  “But I’ll get off of you now.  There’s work to be done.”

He watched as she grinned before rising, her thighs rubbing against his waist as she did. Oliver encouraged himself to breathe slowly, in and out.  He didn’t know what “work” needed to be done, but he wasn’t going to be putty in her hands, no matter how fucking adorable and gorgeous and sexy she was.  Or how often she planned to use him as her personal hobbyhorse.

However, as the next few hours would teach him, this goal would _not_ be an easy one. 

Felicity threw herself across him in every game they played.  Again and again, no matter how quickly he moved or how he contorted his body, she wrapped herself in between his arms, through his legs, and over his back. He’d found himself mere inches from her chest on multiple occasions, with the deep V of her little top gaping down to showcase the ivory lace bra that barely contained her breasts. He’d had to rest his head on her tiny bared stomach once, just to reach his hand to the green, and tried like hell not to notice how close his teeth were to the button on her jeans.

But the worst part wasn’t how her closeness affected him.  The worst part was how obviously his closeness affected _her_. Having to listen to the little pants of her breaths when their bodies aligned perfectly together, having to watch the dilatation of her pupils when his face came just inches from hers, and having to hear her whimper when his arm _accidentally_ brushed across her breasts, was sheer torture.  But Oliver forged through.  Because Felicity would not crack him.  She would not “open” him.  No matter how much work she thought she had to do.

Eventually, they collapsed together while simultaneously reaching their right feet for red. Exhausted, Oliver rested back against the mat and let his head drop onto the throw rug.  Felicity lay sideways across him, her belly on his, but he couldn’t muster the energy, or desire, to move.

Turning her head to look at him, she moaned.  “I’m so sore.”

“Me, too,” he admitted, not remembering the last time he’d stretched so thoroughly.

“How long do you think we were at that?” she asked as disheveled hair, falling from her barely contained ponytail, covered part of her face.  She blew out in an attempt to dislodge a loose curl from her mouth.

“Hours,” he replied. Unthinking, he raised a sore arm to her face in order to ease the hair from her lips.  He felt the softness beneath his fingertips as he brushed his hand against her cheek before tucking the wandering curl behind her ear.

Felicity’s eyes closed, and she sighed.

Oliver yanked his arm away. “We’d best get up now,” he instructed himself, willing his tired limbs to escape from the easy pleasure of her body draped over his.

“Okay,” she murmured, finally crawling off of him to sit up and rest her back against the couch. He moved to sit beside her, although several feet away, slumping back against the couch logs as he looked into her shinning eyes.

“Did one of us win, Oliver?”

“I don’t think so.”

“That’s too bad.”

“Yeah, it really is.”

They rested, both silent, for several more minutes.  Oliver used the brief respite to catch his breath and calm his racing pulse. It was working, too…right up until Felicity turned to him and grinned.  “May I offer you some _lemonade_?”

He desperately fought the urge to roll his eyes. _Goddamn lemonade!_ “Yes, Felicity, I would _love_ some.”

“Okay then. Wait right here.”

He watched her jump up, heard her rustle about in the kitchen, listened to the refrigerator door open and the ice clank into the glasses, and then grimaced as her footsteps returned. Felicity plopped down onto the floor again, the sickly yellow liquid sloshing in the glasses and dribbling onto the red Twister dots beneath them.  She offered him a glass and Oliver accepted.  It was, thankfully, smaller than the glass she’d given him yesterday.

Oliver stared down at the opaque swill, wondering if drinking an entire serving could harm something of vital importance inside his body.  _Is this going to destroy my pancreas? Or my spleen?  Good Lord, what exactly does a spleen do, anyway? Can I survive without it?_

He took a deep breath and brought the rim of the cup to his lips.

“Wait.” Felicity held up her hand to stop him. “I need to know something first.”

Oliver sighed in relief as he lowered the glass.  “Yes?”

“What is your last name?”

His brow furrowed. “Haven’t I told you?”

“No.”

Oliver considered that for a moment.  Perhaps he’d been too frightened of giving her that much information about him.  “Queen,” he said.  “Oliver Queen.”

Her mouth puckered into a perfect little “o” before she spoke.  “You don’t mean _the_ Oliver Queen, do you?”

“I think I do.”

“You’re the CEO of Queen Consolidated in Starling City?”

Oliver looked into her eyes, watching the curiosity move across her face.  “That’s me.  How do you know about Queen Consolidated?”

“Who wouldn’t know about Queen Consolidated?  My goodness, you’re the head of a Fortune-500 company, Oliver.  You’re a billionaire.”

“Yup,” he said, and a small part of him was proud of the fact that she’d heard of his family’s company. But then again, another part of him feared her next reaction…the hungered looks and clawed fingers he’d come to expect from any woman who realized who he was.  He watched as Felicity absorbed the information, and then held his breath until she spoke.

“Hmm. So, I guess you like your last name, then.”

Oliver ogled her for a long minute.  And then he smiled, because that wasn’t the response he’d expected.  Honestly, he had no idea what in the hell she was talking about right now, which was kind of wonderful.  “Yes, I suppose I do like my last name.”

“That’s a really good thing. Queen is a cool last name to have. Very regal.  You should be happy about it.”

“I am.” He saw her eyes shift to floor, making her look like a dejected puppy, and he began to follow her train of thought. “I take it you don’t like your last name?”

Felicity shook her head. “No, I do not. I mean, Smoak? What good thing ever came from smoke? It’s just fire and cancer.”

Oliver watched as she frowned, and couldn’t help grinning at how charmingly pouty she looked. “Well, you know, you can also smoke a chicken.  And that’s pretty tasty.”

She tried to keep frowning, but he saw her lips twitch up with his words.

Oliver shook his head. “It’s not that bad for a last name, Felicity. It really isn’t.”

Her shoulders eased. “Thank you for saying that, but sometimes I just want to march into a courthouse and have it changed.”

“Yeah? What would you change it to?”

“Well, I like my middle name. It’s Megan.”

“So you would be Felicity Megan?” he asked, watching as she chewed on her lip and on her thoughts.

“That could work. But, unfortunately, Megan’s not much of a last name.  I’d have to do something with it.  Maybe it could be Megan…son.” She stopped talking for a moment, turning her bright eyes to his as her entire body lit up once again. “Ooh, yes!  That’s it!  Perfect.”

“So now you’re going to be Felicity Meganson?”

“Yes. Yes, I am.  Or I could drop Felicity, too, and just go by Meganson.”

“But then you’d only have one name.”

“Well, lots of rock stars do it,” she offered, wiggling her toes against the plastic. “Although I would probably have to buy more clothes with sequins and glitter on them.  But maybe that’s a good thing, because my sequins-and-glitter collection is sorely lacking.”

She gave him a ridiculously broad and bubbly smile, and he just smiled back, because he realized she was joking. He could tell that now…a feat he wasn’t sure he’d have been capable of yesterday.  He was starting to see how her mind worked, starting to glimpse the world inside her brain, and he found it strangely appealing.  Which was a frightening realization.  “Well, as beautiful as I’m sure you’ll look in sequins and glitter, I think I’ll still call you Felicity.  I like Felicity.”

“You can call me whatever makes you happy, Oliver.  I like it when you’re happy.”

He squeezed onto the glass in his hand as he watched her light blue eyes sparkle along with her words. She was so close to him. Close enough that he could reach out and grab her.  Close enough that he could take her in his arms, and lay her down on this Twister-floor, and kiss every inch of her, if he wanted to.  For the love of all things holy, he really, _really_ wanted to.  And suddenly, drinking an entire glass of straight lemon juice sounded like a completely reasonable thing to do, because he desperately needed to force his mind back to reality.

Oliver looked down to the disgusting liquid filth in his hand and then raised his cup. “Cheers, Felicity.”

She clinked her glass with his.  “Cheers, Oliver.”

Felicity straightened in front of him, staring him down.  Oliver looked deep into her eyes, holding her gaze steady with his own. They were gunslingers across a corral. With tumbleweed drifting past. Or it could have just been lint.

They threw the glasses to their lips simultaneously, tipping them back as they forced the juice swiftly down their throats, the acidic fluid burning all the way down. Oliver tried to imagine this was beer – attempting to trick his mind into thinking he was drinking something other than horse piddle.  It didn’t work. But he still swallowed every last drop, not releasing the glass until he knew he was finished.

They slammed their empty cups to the floor at the same moment, staring at each other with tears in their eyes.  “Shit,” he choked out. “Did you ever drink a whole glass before?”

Felicity sucked in her cheeks as a shiver rocked her shoulders.  “No. Never.  It’s awful.”

Oliver tried to repress his laughter.  He really did. He tried not to think of how stupid they were, or how silly this entire night had been…but he couldn’t help himself. As he watched her body quake beneath the onslaught of lemon juice, he chuckled.  Softly at first, but then louder and harder.

Felicity joined him immediately, her giggles a bright, sparkling sound that filled his ears and moved straight to his chest.  The more she laughed, the more he followed her…until they were both in near fits on the floor. Oliver couldn’t remember ever laughing this hard in his life.  It drained every semblance of obstinate reality from his body, just for these few moments, and he loved the fact that she was here with him, beside him.

When his chuckles finally died down, Oliver continued to absorb the blissful sound of the little giggles still erupting from her throat.  He watched her smile, giddy and perfect, and he realized, quite clearly, that Felicity had won the night.  Whatever game they were playing, he knew he’d come away from it feeling changed. And she was still just…Felicity. This realization, although not sad, was enough to encourage him to leave.  He was not on stable ground when he was around her; he didn’t know if he ever would be.  But nothing else could happen between them tonight.  He’d allowed too much to happen already.

“Felicity, I should…I should really be going.”

Her light blue eyes latched onto his and he saw a twinge of sadness pass through them before she smiled softly and nodded.  “If you need to.”

He started to move, but her hand landed on his knee, daintily preventing his escape. He stilled, looking back to her.

“Oliver, before you go, could I ask you something?”

Her voice was soft and lulling, and so he just said, “Sure.”

She scooted up closer, her thigh pressing against him as she turned her body into his. “Did you like playing football in high school?”

His brow furrowed. Of all the things he thought she might ask him, that question was definitely not on the list. “Yes, I loved it, actually.”

“I’ll bet you were good at it, too.”

“I was.”

“And you were Oliver Queen.”

He huffed out a laugh. “I still am.”

“Yes, but back then you were _the_ Oliver Queen, the young, gorgeous, athletic son of ridiculously wealthy parents.  I can only imagine what that must have been like for you – to have the world entirely at your feet.  I suppose you were deliriously happy, all the time.”

He looked into her, wondering what point she was trying to make.  He wasn’t sure, but he was aware of an undeniable truth.  “Actually, Felicity, I was a complete asshole.”

She made a choking sound in the back of her throat.  “Really?”

“Yup. A total dick.  I mean, don’t get me wrong; I was quite charming. I could charm the pants off of anyone. Literally.  And I often did.”

A tint of red flushed her cheeks.  “You had a lot of women, I guess.”

“More than my fair share. Not that I was faithful to any of them. I was too busy partying to care how they felt.  Too busy making sure I had the most fun I could.  I didn’t really give a shit about anything, except football.  Once, I even peed on a cop car.”

Her eyes widened. “Seriously?”

Oliver hung his head. “Hell, I haven’t thought about that in years.  It seems like a lifetime ago.”

Felicity’s fingers, which had been resting on his knee this entire time, began rubbing softly up and down his leg. Oliver knew she was petting him again, but he was used to it now.  And honestly, he liked it. 

“So then, what happened, Oliver?”

His eyes drew back to hers. “What do you mean?”

“Well, that’s not who you are anymore, is it?  The frolicking, happy-go-lucky boy – with the line of girls running after him, and the urge to decorate police vehicles with bodily fluids – isn’t the person who’s sitting beside me now.”

He smiled despite himself. “No, I suppose not.”

“So, what happened to change him?”

Oliver stared into her, and watched her staring back.  And he had that feeling again, that she was looking farther into him than he thought possible, and definitely farther than he wanted her to look. It both alarmed and unsettled him, and yet here he sat, letting her do it, and there was part of him that didn’t want to leave.  He didn’t want to be alone again.  He didn’t want to be without the soft, soothing touch of her delicate fingers on his body.

Felicity leaned closer, eagerly awaiting his response, and Oliver worked to bring his thoughts back into focus. “You know, I just…I grew up,” he stated, knowing it wasn’t entirely the truth, but it was close enough that he didn’t have to feel guilty about lying to her.  “And now I really should be going.”

He stood swiftly, disconnecting himself from her touch as he towered above her.  But then he looked down at her, at her gentle eyes as they gazed up at him from the ground, and he held his hand out to her. Felicity took the offering, settling her fingers onto his as she pulled herself up and came to stand before him. Keeping hold of his hand, she took a step closer.

The Twister mat crinkled beneath her feet as she eased her free hand up to his face, moving her fingers across his jaw once again.  She explored the feel of his skin for a long moment, until she finally allowed her hand to drop to his chest, splaying her fingers out on his shirt. Oliver’s breath hitched, responding to her proximity, to the warmth of her body, to the sweet scent of little flowers that floated around her.  He looked down to her lips, seeing her tongue dart out to moisten them, and he had to tear his gaze away from the sight.  He refocused on her eyes and stilled.

Her hand rested on his chest, but not just anywhere…her hand lay over his heart, as if she wanted to physically reach inside and take hold of it.  She just seemed so comfortable touching him.  And he wanted nothing more than to touch her back.

But, despite the fact that they’d been draped across each other on a plastic sheet all night, Oliver still felt nervous to touch her now.  Probably because he’d never actually touched her on purpose before. She’d always been the one to touch him. She was the one who held his hand, who petted him, who reached for his heart.  The only time he’d initiated any contact, other than helping her up off the floor just now, was when he’d eased that stray hair from her mouth a few minutes ago. And just that small touch of his fingers to her skin left him feeling burned. 

However, as frightening as that sensation was, it wasn’t enough to prevent him from doing what he wanted to do right now.

Reaching out to her, Oliver rested his hand against her shoulder.  This felt safe somehow, at least until he felt the heat of her skin beneath the thin material of her shirt, and then had to watch as she sighed and leaned closer to him.  Damn, she was just beautiful. So happy and gentle and perfect. His hand wandered up, first to the side of her neck and then up to her cheek, exploring the softness of her skin as his heart pounded inside his chest.  Her lips were still wet from the touch of her tongue just moments before, and he eased his fingers down her jaw and then moved his thumb to her lower lip, dragging it across the smooth, moist warmth of her mouth.  Felicity let out a little gasp at the touch and Oliver’s body pulled closer to hers.  Cupping her cheek in his hand, he stared at her lips.  “God, I want to kiss you,” he breathed, not even realizing he’d said the words out loud until her eyes widened and her breath caught in her throat.

He felt her tremble, just slightly, beneath his touch.  “I want that, too,” she whispered, looking up at him for a moment before her gaze fell to his chest, watching her fingers as she fiddled with a button on his shirt. “It’s a funny thing, isn’t it? Attraction, I mean. You meet a hundred people – a thousand, even – and you may find a few of them attractive.  But then, out of the blue, you see one.  Just _one_. And that person feels so different, and makes you feel open and connected in a way you didn’t even know existed. And, at that moment, you know you’re finally just…alive.”

Her eyes moved back to his then, and he held his breath as he watched her. 

“But you know, Oliver, attraction is actually just a simple chemical reaction that takes place in the human body.”

“Is it?” he questioned, because part of him knew that it was, and the other part of him didn’t give a fuck what it was, because he just wanted to feel the warmth of her lips beneath his.

“It is,” she said. “So it’s probably not a good idea for us to do anything about it.”

“You’re right,” he forced himself to say.  "It’s probably the worst idea ever.”  His hand moved from her cheek to push into her hair, grounding her in place. 

Felicity wet her lips again. “Yes.  The worst idea ever.”

She didn’t try to back away. She just kept standing there, playing her fingers against his shirt as her gaze drifted from his eyes to his lips and back again, and Oliver knew all he had to do was lean down. All he had to do was get a little closer, and she would do the rest.  Because he knew she didn’t give a fuck about what chemicals were in play here, either.

Oliver curled his fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck, inhaling deeply as he silently acknowledged the strength of his desire for this woman.  Hell, right at this moment, he’d give up every damn thing he owned just to learn what sound she would make when his tongue swept past her lips for the first time. 

But was that really what was best for either of them? 

This wasn’t exactly a normal vacation, and they weren’t exactly a normal couple. Felicity could very well be crazy. Or she could be perfectly sane, which meant _he_ was the crazy one. Oliver couldn’t be sure which of those were true, but he did know two things:  the first was that Felicity planned to “open” him, and probably could, and he didn’t know if he was ready for it; and the second was that, if he started kissing her, he wouldn’t want to stop.

That last thought sobered him, and Oliver finally found the strength to straighten, dropping his hand from her hair and pulling away.  “I should say goodnight now, Felicity.”

She closed her eyes for a moment before nodding.

Oliver stepped back off the plastic mat and onto the wood floor, yanking on his shoes and heading toward the front door quickly, before he had time to change his mind. He reached for the handle and opened it, sensing her close behind him.  Before he stepped outside, he turned to see her face again. She was still just as lovely as ever – especially with tiny gold hairs sticking up from her tousled ponytail – and he had to reassure his disgruntled body that this was the right thing to do.

When he’d made it safely out onto the front porch, Felicity leaned up against the doorframe and looked up to his eyes.  “What cabin are you in, Oliver?”

 _Don’t answer!_   “Cabin 9.”

“I’ll pick you up at 8 a.m.,” she assured, as if he’d agreed to the arrangement long ago.  “I’ll show you my woods, just as they were meant to be seen.”

Oliver absorbed the sight of her beautiful body haloed by the soft light from inside the cabin. “Okay,” he agreed without an ounce of regret.  He probably just needed to see where this thing took him.  After all, he was already floundering out in the middle of nowhere; he figured there had to be a logical conclusion to all of this.  He just wished it didn’t seem as if she already knew what it was.

Felicity smiled with his acquiescence. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” he repeated as he stepped off the porch and onto the gravel.  Oliver felt her bright eyes on his back, all the way down the driveway.  When he finally made it to the road, he congratulated himself for not turning around and heading back for that kiss, no matter how much his body and soul begged for it.

 **A/N:**  Hi!  Thank you so much for reading!  I would love to hear your comments.  Also, come talk to me on Tumblr anytime at TinaDay3W :)

Up next...Chapter 4:  Soothing the Savage Beast


	4. Soothing the Savage Beast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I just wanted to take a moment to thank everyone for the lovely comments and kudos and follows; I appreciate it all so much! I hope you'll enjoy Oliver and Felicity's first trip into the forest... :)

Oliver’s alarm woke him at seven and he jumped up out of bed.  Felicity was coming, all set to flutter her way into his world and drag him off to the woods, and Oliver needed time to prepare.  Today held too many unknowns, and too much potential chaos, and he needed his wits about him.

He proceeded with his usual morning routine, completing his sit-ups and push-ups before hopping into the shower.  He tried not to think about Frolicking Freebird Felicity, but as he ran shampoo through his hair, he couldn’t prevent his mind from drifting to the previous night. The entire evening felt like a test, with the crazy, golden-haired beauty engaging him in one contest after the next, to see who would call _Uncle_ first. Felicity wanted to “open” him. And, as frightening a thought as that was, Oliver knew he wanted to open her, too.  Because his little fairy had layers, a _hell of a lot_ of layers, and he wanted nothing more than to peel them away.

The hot water poured over Oliver’s back, and he closed his eyes to picture the look on Felicity’s face two evenings ago, when he’d said he was _on vacation_.  Just the mention of it had sent her into a moment of lucidity bordering on normalcy. Why?  If she wasn’t silly, frivolous, devil-may-care-and-I’ll-nail-this-damn-picture-to-the-wall-if-I-want-to Felicity, then who was she?  Could he ever possibly find out?

Oliver shook his head as he stepped out of the shower and dried off.  Wrapping his towel around his waist, he stared at his personal care items, lined up in order of usage:  deodorant, toothpaste, toothbrush, shaver, comb and cologne. They were always like that, because he’d enacted his morning routine in exactly the same manner for as long as he could recall.  He wondered if Felicity had a routine.  She probably didn’t. She probably had to search for where she left her perfume.  And she probably forgot to brush her teeth sometimes, too.  Did that make her crazy?  Or did it just make him obsessive-compulsive?

Oliver stared at the line of products.  He moved his deodorant to the end of the line.  He smiled. _There. See?  I can be adventurous.  I can do things differently_. 

Felicity would not keep him off-kilter.  He would simply _choose_ to be off-kilter, and beat her at her own game.  He would show her that he could put his deodorant on _after_ his cologne, damn it.

Oliver left the bathroom with a sense of accomplishment.  He would have to go into the woods this morning – into all of that disgruntling nature – but he would do it with a smile on his face.  He had no earthly desire to see the 400 species of trees Felicity told him were out there, but she didn’t have to know that. He could take whatever she dished out.

After pulling on a black T-shirt and khaki cargo pants, Oliver moved hurriedly to his laptop. He took a seat on the plaid-cushioned chair, knowing only minutes remained for him to check on work.  But as he waited for the computer to start, a sickly feeling crawled into his chest, along with the echo of Felicity’s voice: _Did you know that there are over 400 species of trees in the Blue Ridge Mountains?_

His fingers twitched against the keyboard. _That sounds like a lot of fucking trees._

Had she done it again? Had she _lied_ to him?  Had she looked right at him, after their slow squirrel discussion the night before, and lied about trees?

Oliver gritted his teeth as he typed _Blue Ridge Mountain trees_ into the search engine.  The information appeared swiftly.  Blue Ridge harbored 1400 herbaceous plants…34 types of salamanders…and 158 species of trees.

“ _158_ species of trees, Felicity,” he seethed.  _Why_?  Why couldn’t she just be honest with him?  Why did she make these things up?  Who the hell cared how many trees were in the Blue Ridge?  She could have just said _a lot_. That wouldn’t have been a lie. Why did she have to _lie_?

Oliver leaned back in the log chair and stared up at the log ceiling. 

 _Why does she keep doing this?_  

Admittedly, at first, he thought the lies were just part of the craziness of her. But now, as he looked back on each little deception, Oliver didn’t believe that any more. The lies were too exact and well placed, each one exaggerated enough to become obvious the moment he took the time to think about it.  Which probably meant it all had a purpose in her mind.  But what the hell could that be?

Oliver just didn’t know what to do with her; he didn’t know what to think about her. She’d lied to him again and again, about silly things like squirrels and lemonade and trees, but he also believed she’d lied about a much more fundamental thing – because Oliver didn’t believe for a second that Felicity was a freelance nature reporter. He knew she was a patient, just like him, and he wanted nothing more than for her to admit it. Not because he wanted to expose some flaw in her, but because he didn’t care that she was a patient. It didn’t matter if she needed help. After all, as much as he’d fought the admission, the fact remained that he needed help, too.

Flipping his computer back off, Oliver ran his fingers across his eyelids and took a deep breath in. _Felicity_. How could one tiny woman manage to crawl so far under his skin in so short a period of time?

She’d worked her way inside him, not just with her ridiculous lies, but with her kindness and caring and beauty.  God, she was beautiful, and Oliver wanted nothing more than to touch her.  He wanted to touch her heart, and he wanted to touch her body. But he knew he shouldn’t.

The conversation they’d had at the end of last night was a good one.  They’d agreed not to act on the attraction between them, and Oliver knew that was for the best.  Adding a physical component to this bizarre relationship would only complicate the shit out of it. He was glad that Felicity had been the voice of reason after he’d blurted out his desire to kiss her, because he was almost absolutely certain that he shouldn’t kiss her.  Or grab hold of her and peel her clothes off. Or push himself inside her skin, just like she was already inside his.  That would all be a terrible mistake, right? 

Tire wheels crunched against his gravel driveway and Oliver’s head popped up.  He sprung out of his chair and headed for the door, hoping to catch the silent, red-hooded young man before he had the chance to scurry away. Oliver reached the door handle and yanked it open.  But instead of the stealthy delivery boy, Oliver found Felicity. 

The little fairy perched herself on his front porch, holding onto his food tray and gazing up at him with sparkling blue eyes.  “Breakfast at your service, sir,” she sung with a curtsey.

Oliver barely registered how delectable she looked in her matching heather gray yoga pants and jacket before he noticed the delivery boy already returning to his van. 

“Have a nice day, Felicity!” the young man hollered from beneath his red hood as he eased into the driver’s seat.

“You too, Roy!” she yelled back.

Oliver’s brow arched. “The meal delivery guy talks to you?”

“Of course.   Doesn’t he talk to you?”

“No. He’s never said a word to me.”

Felicity shrugged. “He’s just a little shy. Once he gets used to you, he’ll babble your ear off.”  She smiled up into Oliver’s eyes as she wriggled past him and fluttered into his cabin, her manly hiking boots barely making a sound on the log floor.

Oliver closed the door behind her, wondering just how much time Felicity spent at Blissful Blue. Enough time for red-hoodie Roy to get used to her, apparently.  Enough time for her to be comfortable traipsing through the woods.  Enough time for her to know Digg in an official capacity. Did she come here every chance she got? Was she like Tommy, a stressed out executive who’d found peace up here in these mountains? 

Turning toward her, Oliver watched as she delivered his food to the coffee table and then plopped down on the plaid couch cushions.  She stole the croissant from his tray, breaking off a flaky piece and popping it into her mouth. Then she gave him a brilliant, silly grin as she proceeded to eat his breakfast, and Oliver focused on the perfect upturn of her bright pink lips.  Looking at her right this moment, he honestly couldn’t imagine Freebird Forest Felicity ever being stressed out.

“You want some?” she asked, holding the partially devoured croissant up in the air.  “I mean, it’s yours, of course.  And you really should eat something before we head out. The food here is amazing, right?”

Oliver moved to join her on the couch, sitting far enough away so that he didn’t risk touching her. He pivoted himself to look into her eyes and watched as she smiled and held the croissant out to him. He took it, shoving a bite into his mouth.

“Did you sleep well, Oliver?”

He nodded as he swallowed. “I did.”

“Oh, good. Honestly, I was hoping you would still be asleep when I got here.  That way I could have served you breakfast in bed.  But you probably don’t want to go lay back down now; you don’t seem like the type to take a rest after you’ve already gotten up for the day.”

He stared at her for a long minute, not sure which part of her statement was the most worrisome: the fact that she’d planned to break into his cabin while he slept; her use of the word _honestly_ ; the thought of seeing her smiling down at him when he opened his eyes for the first time; or the suggestion that he wasn’t capable of napping. And no, he never took a nap, but she didn’t need to know that.

Oliver chewed thoughtfully on the last bite of the croissant, trying to decide which troublesome topic he wanted to address first.  Then he grabbed his orange juice glass and took a big swig before sinking back into the couch and locking her eyes with his.  “Well, we do have to head out into the woods this morning, so I suppose we should plan on having breakfast in bed another day,” he offered, watching in anticipation as the words reached her ears.

And then it came – that sweet little blush of pink he knew would light her cheeks the moment she understood his suggestion.  He loved the subtle widening of her eyes, and the way her tongue peeked out to wet her lips in response. Damn, he could kiss her so easily. He could press her into these couch cushions and do a hundred different things to her.  Things that would make her whimper and gasp and moan. But that wasn’t an option, was it? Hadn’t they agreed last night that none of that was going to happen?  And, if that were true, then what the hell were they doing talking about breakfast in bed right now?

Oliver watched in fascination as Felicity leaned toward him, bringing her hand to his face. Her fingers trembled, just slightly, as she ran them across his jaw, and then wiped a tiny piece of croissant from his chin stubble.  “You’re right, of course; we have things to do today,” she agreed.  “Breakfast in bed will have to wait.”  And then she took his glass out of his hand, brought it to her lips, drank the rest of his orange juice, and set the cup down before bouncing off of the couch cushions to step toward the door.

His eyes followed her across the room.  As she paused to reach for the door handle, his gaze drifted down to her ass, which was scrumptiously outlined by her clinging, heather grey yoga pants.  The matching fitted jacket didn’t come past her waist, and he zeroed in on the tiny triangular shadow of her black thong panties, just before she turned back to look at him. 

“Are you coming, Oliver?”

He coughed. “Yup,” he said, pulling his eyes back up to her face.  “Coming.”

She waited patiently as he stood, gathered his mostly-full food tray, and brought it back to the porch, setting it down by the door.  Felicity eased the door shut behind them as Oliver straightened.  Then she looked up to his face and reached out to him. “Hold my hand?” she encouraged, her voice as gentle and flawless as he knew her touch would be.

Oliver didn’t hesitate. He took her hand in his, threading their fingers together.  He registered the softness and warmth of the feeling just a moment before Felicity stepped off the porch, guiding him into the forest behind his cabin.

…

Felicity moved him through the trees and underbrush, with no trail or beaten path in sight, seemingly knowing exactly where she was going.  He followed her with utmost trust, but still said a silent prayer that they would be able to find their way back out one day.  He had no desire for a hiker to find his half-eaten body in a week.

“I take it you know where we are?” Oliver questioned despite himself.  Although he’d been attempting to imitate her amazingly nonchalant attitude, the thought of various and sundry forest creatures had simply gotten the better of him. There were 34 types of goddamn salamanders out here, for fuck’s sake.

“Don’t worry,” she offered with a squeeze of his hand.  “I’ll take good care of you.”

“I wasn’t worried,” he protested to the back of her head.  “It’s just that everything looks pretty much the same around here and I know you don’t have GPS or…”

Felicity stopped suddenly, cutting off his words.  The rapid, unexpected movement caused him to bump into her backside.  Oliver dropped his hold on her hand to reach for her waist, gripping both of her hips with his fingers to prevent her from toppling over. 

Felicity rested her back against his chest as she turned her head to peek up into his face. “Thank you for steadying me.”

The length of her body fit perfectly onto his, her warmth permeating through his T-shirt and cargo pants. “You’re welcome. Forgive my clumsiness.”

“Oh, it was my fault,” she insisted, patting his hands before stepping aside to stare at a nearby tree. Oliver would have been more amazed by the fact that she’d just accepted responsibility for something, had he not been wholly dejected by the instant lack of warmth. 

Felicity stood quietly for several minutes, just staring up at the tree branches, until Oliver eventually began shuffling his feet.  “So, we’re here now,” he announced, anxious to proceed with this bird watching of hers and then retreat from these woods as quickly as possible. “What do we do?”

“Patience, Oliver. I have to make sure this is the spot.” She fingered the knots of the oak tree, and then circled the trunk completely, before returning to her exact spot of origin. “Yes, I believe this is the one. The picture looks exactly like this.”

Oliver stared at the trunk in front of her, wondering how she could possibly determine that this one tree – in an entire forest of them – was the one she was searching for. He shook his head. “If you think so.”

Felicity glanced back to him. “Will you give me your hand?”

_Holy hell, how many times is she going to ask me to touch her today?_

He held his hand out, palm up, and Felicity smiled as she grasped him by the wrist and pulled him forward. His chest bumped up onto her back again as she placed his hand on the oak’s trunk, trapping herself between him and the tree.  Oliver felt the roughness of the bark beneath his fingertips, but he barely registered the sensation. Because all he could think of was how much he loved having her body against him again.  And how cold it would be if she left.

“Do you feel that?” she whispered, her gaze fastened to the oak before them.

She took a deep breath in, causing her back to shift against his chest, and Oliver closed his eyes. He breathed in her scent, that intoxicatingly sweet mix of fresh soap and tiny flowers, as he allowed his body to lean heavier into hers.  “What do you want me to feel?”

“The tree, Oliver. All of the little cracks and crevices in the bark.”  She moved his hand against the trunk as she spoke, her fingers on top of his as she reverently traced the tiny indentations.  “Can you feel them? How they each have their own path, and how they all wind together?”

He opened his eyes again, looking at the top of her gold head, and he fought the urge to press his lips into her hair.  “It’s just a tree, Felicity.”

“Oh, no, it’s not. It’s _alive_ ,” she insisted, twisting inside the shelter of his body in order to look up to his face.  “Everything here is alive. Can’t you feel it?”

God, he didn’t know. All he knew was how she felt pressed up against him:  soft and warm and perfect.  “It’s just a tree,” he repeated, because he wanted to see the little spark of indignation that he knew would light her eyes.  She didn’t disappoint.

“Oh, Oliver,” she groaned, but her mouth eased into a smile.  She reached up to his face, placing her hand against his cheek for one brief moment. Then she stepped away from him.

He wanted to grab her. To pull her back. To press her up against the tree trunk and…

Felicity fell down.

Oliver startled. “Felicity!” he shouted, struggling to catch her as she landed on the ground at his feet.

“What are you doing?” she asked, staring at his outstretched arms.

His brow furrowed. “I’m helping you get back up.”

“Why?”

“Because you fell.”

“No. I sat.”

“You _sat_?”

“Yes. And now I’m going to _lay_.”

Oliver watched in dread as she eased her back to the forest floor, stretching out her legs and gazing sweetly up at him. 

_She doesn’t actually think I’m going to accompany her in this, does she?_

“Oliver Queen! Come on down!” she shouted in her best _The Price Is Right_ voice.

He huffed out a laugh. “No, I’m fine,” he insisted, crossing his arms over his chest.  He was not about to lie on the ground.  Who knows what had pooped there.

A hefty tug against his pants made his eyes wander down.  Felicity’s fingers were wrapped around his pant leg, yanking on the material over and over again. He looked from her hand to her face and watched a rascally grin curve her lips.  “I imagine this will irritate you sooner or later, Oliver.”

 _Sooner_.

“Come lay next to me; you’re blocking my view and I don’t want to miss anything,” she said, staring up at him for a moment before adding,  “I promise I won’t bite.”

Oliver glared up at the tree branches, silently admitting that he would be more inclined to lie beside her if she said she _would_ bite him. But that was another issue altogether.

His pant leg jiggled for the twentieth time and Oliver sighed.  _Okay, okay, you win, Felicity. Again._   But he wasn’t about to let her know it. 

Hopping down onto the dirt floor beside her, Oliver leaned back and pretended that the ground wasn’t hard as a rock and probably covered in 400 species of animal droppings. “Yes, this does give a much better view,” he offered instead, trying to sound incredibly interested.  He didn’t have to look at her to know she was still smiling.

Time passed in bizarre silence. Oliver initially attempted to discern birds in the trees, to possibly even see this purple fantini she was so obsessed with, but gave up quickly when he realized that everything here looked exactly the same.  One big blur of green and brown, punctuated by an occasional noise that made him wonder what little beady eyes were faceted on his prone form.  He was simply not prepared for a squirrel attack at this juncture.

When he’d first joined her on the forest floor, Oliver could count the number of acorns beneath his back based on his heightened level of discomfort.  But now, the freezing cold earth had turned him to stone. _Good Lord, will she be finding this bird of hers sometime soon? Or is she waiting for my entire body to go numb first?_   _Why won’t she just take some damn pictures and be done with this?_

Realization hit Oliver like a fist to his chest.  He took a sharp breath in and then exhaled slowly.  “ _Felicity_ ,” he began, trying to keep his voice from rising, “if we’re waiting out here to get another picture of the fantini bird, then why don’t you have your _camera_ with you?”

“Oh, I don’t think he’ll come back today.  That would be like lightning striking twice on the same tree.”

His head whipped to the side to see her.  “But if we’re not bird watching, then why the hell are we out here, lying on the cold forest floor, staring at _trees_?”

Felicity turned to meet his gaze, her face inches from his.  “Because you need it.”

“ _What?_   No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do,” she sighed, looking back up through the boughs to the blue sky.

Oliver harrumphed and turned his gaze up, too.  _Damn it!  Why does she feel like she knows what’s best for me?  What gives her the unearthly power of deciding my needs?_ “No, I _don’t_ ,” he mumbled beneath his breath, not caring if she heard.

Time continued, but Oliver didn’t say another word.  He lay stiff and rigid beside her, carefully eyeing the tree branches, with every muscle in his body tense against the frigid forest floor.  At one point, an acorn dropped beside his head, and he knew – if it had landed six inches to the right – that it could have easily poked his eye out.

“Oliver,” Felicity spoke finally, her sweet voice a welcome intrusion in the creepy stillness. “Why do you hate nature?”

“I don’t hate nature,” he insisted, inwardly cursing the pinecone that seemed to have become a permanent part of his left butt cheek.

“Then why aren’t you mountain climbing with your parents?”

“I told you. I don’t like mountain climbing.”

“So then why aren’t you enjoying the forest?”

“I just…I find it overrated.”

“ _Overrated_?  What about all of the wonder around you?  The delicate, beautiful shapes of original, irreplaceable living things?”

Oliver resisted his body’s pull toward her childlike appreciation of life.  “The forest is uncontrolled, Felicity.  Dangerous.  You have no idea what is going to happen out here.  We could be eaten by something big and hairy at any moment.”

“Hmm. So what upsets you is the safety issue?”

“I suppose.”

“The fact that you can’t control what happens?”

“I am _not_ a control freak.”

“I didn’t say you were. But you did inform me that you tell people what to do for a living.”

“I didn’t put it that way. You did.”

“But it’s true.”

He sighed. “Yes, it’s true.”

“What about your parents? Did you encourage them to go on their hiking trip?”

“No, I wasn’t crazy about the idea.”

“Because they might get hurt?”

“I believe it would be quite easy for two sixty-year-olds to fall off of a mountain.”

“But what about the thrill of it? What about them doing something new and refreshing and invigorating, and being able to hold the experience in their hearts for the rest of their lives?”

“What about them breaking their necks and that being the _end_ of their lives?”

Felicity sat silently for a moment. “So you tried to stop them?”

“Yes.”

“And what did they say?”

“They just asked me to come with them.”

“So they know about your little problem.”

Oliver worked hard to stare straight up into space.  “ _What_ little problem?”

“The fact that you like to tell other people what to do with their lives.”

He turned his face back to hers in order to glare at her better.  “I like to _help_ people understand what’s _best_ for them, if that’s what you mean.”

“No, that’s not what I mean,” she hummed, still gazing dreamily into the tree boughs.

Oliver lay there, just looking at the side of her face, for a long minute.  And then he watched as her hand eased over to his arm. He saw her fingers land on his skin, warm and soft against his forearm.  And then Felicity started it again – the _petting_ – the slow and lulling movement he’d come to know as hers.

He wanted to be mad at her right now.  He wanted to fume and growl and glower.  But, if he wanted to do all that, he knew he would have to stop this petting of hers.

Oliver didn’t stop her. He didn’t move at all. He just lay there, feeling her touch. She stroked his skin, over and over again, soft and easy and languid.  And he actually felt his heart rate slowing from the calm, soothing motion.

“Felicity?” he mumbled, his speech thicker than it had been a moment ago.

“Yes?”

“Are you petting me right now?”

Her fingers stopped their movement momentarily, settling onto his skin.  A little giggle eased past her lips.  “Does it feel like I’m petting you?”

“Pretty much.”

“I don’t mean for it to feel that way.  Do you want me to stop?”

Oliver concentrated on her hand, resting warm and still on his arm, and shook his head.  “No, I don’t want you to stop.”

Felicity immediately began the soft motion again, trailing her fingers up and down.  “I’m glad you don’t want me to stop.  I like touching you.”

He had to close his eyes for a minute while he absorbed that information.  “I like it, too.  But it’s very methodical, like petting.”

“Hmm, I guess I could see that.  It’s called therapeutic touch.”

His brow arched as he opened his eyes to see her.  “Therapeutic touch?”

“Touch is an incredible means of communication, Oliver.  And it’s a wonderful way to relax muscles, lower blood pressure, and calm anxiety. The skin is actually the body’s largest organ, so touching the skin can simultaneously touch the heart and the mind and the soul.”  She turned to look at him, giving him a soft smile.  “Essentially, therapeutic touch can soothe the savage beast.”

Oliver’s mouth dropped open. _Did she just call me a savage beast?_

“So I take it this is more of the psychological drivel you’ve learned in your time up here at Blissful Blue?” he grumbled as he stared into her.  He still wanted to be mad at her, but the petting was making it difficult. And he sure as hell didn’t want to admit that her “therapeutic touch” worked on him.

Felicity looked back to the puffy white clouds above the trees.  “Actually, your best friend gave an amazing lecture on it a few years back.”

“You mean John Diggle gave a talk on therapeutic touch here at Blue?”

“He did.”

“Well, that’s odd. Because the only touch I get from Digg is when he’s beating the shit out of me in the boxing ring at our gym.”

Felicity chuckled. “Well, I guess for big, growly men like the two of you, punching can be a form of therapeutic touch.”

Oliver glanced down at her hand against his arm, watching the movement that accompanied the soft, blissful feeling.  He could literally feel his body calming down as her dainty fingers moved across his skin, and he allowed his shoulders to relax against the ground while he looked back to her face. “I think I like your version of it better.”

Felicity’s blue eyes met his once again.  “I didn’t mean to make you think I was petting you.  I just thought…I thought maybe you needed it.”

“Why would you think I need it?”

“Because it seems like you haven’t been touched in a while.”

Oliver stared into her. He stared hard, trying to find some explanation for this pull toward her.  “No, I haven’t been touched in a while,” he admitted.  Although it wouldn’t matter how often or how recently he’d felt anyone, because her touch was different from anything else, ever.

She nodded with his words, and Oliver saw a flicker of sadness pass through her eyes. He studied her then, examining the way her body moved against the cold ground as she breathed in deeply and exhaled slowly, and he saw something he hadn’t seen before.  Frolicking Freebird Felicity still lay beside him, and she still touched him, but at that moment Oliver could see – so clearly – the loneliness inside her.

His fingers clenched against the dirt floor.  “What about you, Felicity?  Has it been a while since you’ve been touched?”

She turned her gaze back to the sky. “Mmm…sometimes it feels like it’s been forever.”

His chest constricted with her words, his muscles stiffening as he watched the gentle breeze ruffle her gold hair.  He stared at the side of her face, and the little upturn of her nose, as his hands twitched by his sides. He shouldn’t touch her. He shouldn’t. 

 _Don’t do it, Oliver.  Just don’t. Change the subject._ _Talk about anything else._

“You know, Digg made me the godfather of his daughter, Sara,” he offered, although he wasn’t quite sure why that particular sentence popped out of his mouth.

But then Felicity smiled and whispered, “Of course he did,” and Oliver knew exactly why he’d told her. He wanted her to see him as… _more_.  More than the savage beast. 

“I bet you’re an amazing godfather,” she added, and Oliver cringed.

He felt her fingers move across his skin, over and over again, and he shook his head. “I’m not, actually. I’ve never even held baby Sara, that I can recall.”

“No? Why not?”

“I don’t know. She’s so small. Innocent.  I might break her.”

Felicity’s hand stopped, pausing to hold onto his arm in a firm yet gentle grasp.  “Sara doesn’t need you to be perfect, Oliver. She just needs you to be there for her.”

“But I don’t know if I’ll be any good at that.  Honestly, I don’t even know why Digg picked me.”

“It sounds like he picked you because you’re his best friend and he loves you.”

Oliver’s shoulders fell. “You’re right; he does. Although I’m not sure why.”

Her fingers started their slow path across his arm again as she closed her eyes.  “It’s because you’re very loveable, Oliver Queen.”

_Loveable?_

He wasn’t sure if a woman had ever called him that, except for his mother. 

Oliver watched his forest fairy for a long moment before he turned onto his side, easing up on his elbow in order to get a better look at her.  He was careful to move slowly, not wanting to break the contact of her hand on his arm as he positioned himself beside her.  And then Oliver gazed down at the softness of her features as she lay on the cold, hard ground.

No woman had ever called him _loveable_ like Felicity just did. He’d been called _attractive_ many, many times.  He’d been called _skilled_ by women he’d slept with.  And there was that one time he’d walked off the Queen Consolidated elevator on the wrong floor and overheard a group of women in an employee lounge referring to him as _infinitely fuckable_. It hadn’t been the worst moment of his life. But nothing could hold a candle to this: feeling Felicity’s gentle touch against his skin as she smiled softly into the tree-shaded sunshine and called him _loveable_.

He wanted to touch her. Goddamn it, he wanted it so badly. But he knew where that would lead, because he could so easily envision her naked and writhing beneath him. Felicity wanted his touch as much as he wanted hers, and that meant muddying their already confusing-as-hell relationship. He couldn’t do that. Could he?

_No, I can’t.  Not when she keeps lying to me, over and over again.  Absolutely not._

_Unless…_

_What if that changes?  What if she admits she lied?  What if she takes responsibility for her actions?  What if she tells me the truth?  I could touch her then, couldn’t I?_

“Felicity,” he began, his voice breaking on her name.

“Yes?”

“I know you lied to me again.”

“Oh? About what?”

“You told me last night that there are over 400 species of trees in the Blue Ridge.”

Oliver watched her tranquil face, awaiting a response.  None came. “Well, there aren’t,” he added in her silence.  “There are only 158 species.”

He stared at her from his spot on the cold, hard earth, wanting her to admit that she’d been caught. Wanting her to look guilty, for once. But she didn’t. Not at all.  And Oliver knew that fact should make him mad. Hell, he should be completely pissed off at her, and want nothing more than to jump up off of this dirt floor and run in the opposite direction. 

But he didn’t want to run. He wanted to stay here, with her. He wanted her to keep touching him. And he wanted to touch her back.

Oliver exhaled as he shook his head. “You’ve told me some fairly ridiculous lies, and yet I still feel like I can trust you,” he admitted. “Why is that?”

Felicity’s fingers ceased their movements against his arm.  She opened her eyes to look up into his. “You’re right, Oliver. I did lie to you, and I’m sorry.”

As the lead weight lifted off his chest, Oliver breathed in deeply for the first time in as long as he could remember.  “Thank you for that, Felicity.”

She smiled softly in response before resuming the path of her fingers on his skin.

Oliver concentrated on her sky blue. “Can you tell me why you lied to me?”

“I can. But I don’t think you’ll like the answer.”

He huffed out a laugh. “Try me, please.”

“Well…sometimes you have to light a powder keg’s fuse, and have it blow up, in order to see what’s inside.”

_Did she just call me a powder keg?  Good Lord, first I’m a savage beast, and now I’m a powder keg? What the hell is she going to call me next?_

“Just so we’re clear here, Felicity, I did _not_ blow up.”

“No, but you did get all growly and broody, like a big old grizzly bear.”

_Apparently, she’s going to call me a grizzly bear next._

Oliver shifted his body closer to hers, in order to pin her with a determined stare. “So what you’re telling me right now is that you thought I was a big, growly grizzly bear, and so you figured it would be fun to poke me with a stick?”

Felicity burst out laughing. “Well, when you put it that way, it sounds like a pretty dumb thing to do.”

“You’re damn right it was a dumb thing to do.  And you don’t strike me as a dumb person.  In fact, I’m beginning to think you’re a fucking genius, so I really don’t get why you did that. If you thought I was a bear, how could you possibly know I wouldn’t hurt you?”

She quieted then, her giggles subsiding as she looked into him.  “Because, Oliver.  You’re a good person with a good heart.”

“But you just met me. How do you know that?”

Felicity shrugged. “I just do,” she said, closing her eyes again. 

Oliver gazed down at her tiny prone form, haloed in leaves and twigs.  She looked so fragile right now.  So small and innocent and sweet. 

_Is this what she does everyday?  Does she go around looking for crazy-ass powder kegs, inserting herself into their lives so she can blow them up to see what’s inside?  And does she really think she can handle something that dangerous, just because she’s learned some dime-store psychology while on vacation at Blissful Blue?_

Oliver’s mouth soured with his thoughts.  He hated to think of the pain behind her sweet eyes if any of those bombs blew up in her face. “Felicity?”

“Yes?”

“I don’t want you to poke any more bears, because I don’t want you to get hurt.”

She smiled tenderly with his words. “Oliver, I assure you, I’m tougher than I look.”

_I already know you're tough.  And I know you're bright and brilliant and joyous.  But that's exactly the kind of person the world can break._

Oliver wanted to demand that she never poke another bear again, as long as she lived. But somehow, he knew she wouldn’t agree to that.  Because she was going to do what she wanted to do, and live on the edge, like the frolicking freebird she was. And knowing that made one thing perfectly clear.  “You’ve been challenging me these past few days.  Haven’t you, Felicity?”

Her hand continued its gentle path up and down his arm.  “Yes, I suppose I have.”

“But…why? Other than the powder keg thing.”

“Because I want to know that you’ll fight back.”

Oliver leaned in even closer. “Why do you want me to fight back?”

“So I know you haven’t given up.”

“Haven’t given up on what?”

Felicity gazed up into his eyes. “On life, Oliver.”

His shoulders deflated.

 _Life_. She had an obsession with it. Drinking lemon juice made her feel alive.  Tree trunks made her feel alive. And the attraction between them…that made her feel alive, too.

Oliver watched her for a long minute. He watched the sunlight reflect off of the sky blue of her eyes.  Watched the breeze brush her hair across the ground.  Watched the tiny tremble that moved over her pink lips as she waited for his assurance.  And he couldn’t hold himself back from her any longer. 

Oliver reached out to her. Moving his hand onto her cheek, he eased across her smooth skin before pushing his fingers into her hair. Felicity’s response to him was immediate, and a gentle, cooing sound bubbled up from her throat as she leaned into his touch.  Oliver tangled his fingers up in her loose gold curls, holding her steady as he pinned her eyes with his own.

“I haven’t given up on life, Felicity.”

He thought she’d been relaxed before, lying here on her bed of leaves, but that was nothing compared to now.  With his words, Felicity’s entire body sank into the dirt floor beneath her as her fingers came to a rest against his forearm.  “Thank you,” she breathed.  “Thank you, Oliver.” Her eyes fluttered closed again and she smiled gently into the sunshine, with her eyelashes flush to her cheeks and a look of serene peace on her face. 

She looked like an angel, with a halo of gold around her head, and Oliver couldn’t stop staring at her. He moved his fingers inside her hair, stroking her scalp as he did, and listened to the purrs that emanated from her throat.  Then he trailed his hand down, out of the blond softness and onto her shoulder, stroking down her arm all the way to her hand.  Felicity breathed in deeply and then exhaled on a sigh, and he couldn’t help the swell of pride in his chest.  He could perform therapeutic touch just as well as she could, it seemed.  Although, as he trailed his hand up and down her arm, he wasn’t exactly sure which of them was getting the therapy.  Touching her felt like a reward for something, and he wasn’t sure if he deserved such a medal, but it was shiny and sparkly and he wanted to hold onto it for as long as he could.  For as long as she let him.

He eased his hand back up her arm again, stilling against her shoulder for moment as he watched her heartbeat pulse in the hollow of her throat.  His fingers sought out the tiny motion of their own accord, marveling at the life beneath her skin.  Oliver listened intently to the little mewling sound she made as he stroked from the base of her throat to her chin and back again. 

“My God, that feels so good,” Felicity murmured, and then bit into her lip.

Oliver smiled, because he knew she hadn’t meant to say the words out loud.  But, as much as he loved just quietly touching her, the sound of her voice made him realize how much he missed hearing her thoughts. “Talk to me,” he urged. “Tell me something about yourself.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Anything. Tell me about your parents.”

She giggled. “My parents?  Is this some psycho babble you’re learning up here at Blissful Blue, Oliver?”

He couldn’t help chuckling with her. “I suppose it is.” He continued to stroke her skin, his fingers easing onto her soft cheek and then into her vibrant hair.

She hummed contentedly. “Hmm, let’s see. I’m an only child. My mother is a very free-spirited woman. She sculpts and paints and soul searches, and is quite formidable in her own way.  My father was a cardiac surgeon.”

“Was?”

“He died two years ago.”

“Oh. May I ask how?”

She breathed deeply, her eyelids fluttering, before she answered.  “He was a workaholic.  Day and night he was at the hospital, or at his office.  He had a massive coronary one night while working late.  Everyone had gone home for the day.  It wasn’t abnormal for him to sleep in the office, so we didn’t question where he was.  No one found him until the staff came in the next morning.”

“I…I’m sorry,” he mumbled, pulling his hand away from her.

Her eyes opened. “Don’t stop touching me, Oliver. Please don’t.”

He listened to her plea, and he complied, half because she asked it of him, half because he recognized a significant ache the moment his skin lost contact with hers. Her eyes reached into him, and Oliver could see the dulled pain of her memories behind that beautiful blue. He eased his fingers through her hair, brushing it gently down to her shoulders and then smoothing his hand all the way down her arm, before starting his path over again. 

Felicity settled further into the dirt floor as he petted her, her body relaxed and calm and definitively at home in the earth.  “I guess you take after your mother,” Oliver thought aloud.

A little laugh escaped her lips.  “I used to think she was crazy.  Can you believe that?”

His face cracked with a smile. Yes, he knew how it felt to consider a free spirit “crazy”.  But he had to admit now that Felicity wasn’t crazy; she simply took after her mother – free, and wild, and definitely formidable.  “When did you change your mind about your mother?”

“Oh, you know how it is when you grow up.  You start to look at life differently.”

“And you didn’t want to be a workaholic like your father, I take it.”

“Life is short, Oliver. I simply see my mother’s viewpoint now. I want to appreciate all of the little things. I want to appreciate every single moment for what it has to offer.  Every laugh. Every sigh.  Every tree.  Every bird.”

“Every tire,” Oliver interjected.

Felicity grinned. “Yes, the car tires, too. Everything.  It’s all about appreciation.”

 _Appreciation_. He’d heard that word before…from Tommy.

Hell, was it possible that she knew Tommy?  Had she been here with Tommy in the past, and allowed Tommy to touch her this way? Is this where Tommy learned how to be so happy?

Oliver stiffened, unable to stomach the thought.  “You’re not seeing anyone, are you Felicity?” he asked before he could stop himself, noting the glimmer of genuine surprise in her eyes.  Of course he knew she wasn’t seeing anybody, because she’d just said that it had been forever since someone touched her, and Oliver knew, without a doubt, that if she had a man in her life, the guy would be all over her – morning, noon, and night. 

“No, I’m not seeing anyone,” she assured.  “I meant what I said to you earlier…I haven’t been touched in a very long time.”

“Good. I mean, good about the not-seeing-anyone part, not the haven’t-been-touched part.” 

Felicity smiled brilliantly in response to his fumbled words.  “Are you seeing anyone?”

He chuckled, because he knew she already knew the answer.  “No.”

“Good,” she said, and he smiled back as he watched her close her eyes once again. 

She seemed to be staring up into the sunshine, even though she couldn’t possibly see anything behind her closed eyes, and Oliver wondered what colors were popping up behind her eyelids as she turned her face toward the light above the trees. He swore she was more beautiful right now than ever before, just basking in the bright warmth, and he gave himself over to his need to touch her.  Easing his hands to her forehead, he traced the outline of her hair around her face and then drew his fingers down her neck once again, ending at the curve of her shoulder.  He wished she wasn’t wearing so many clothes.  Not that he wanted to undress her right here on the forest floor.  No, of course he didn’t want that.  He just wanted a little more skin to touch.

Oliver stared at her jacket. There was a zipper at the base of her throat.  He reached for it, assuring himself that he would only grant himself access to a tiny bit more of her. Just a tiny bit more. Grasping the metal between his fingertips, he drew the zipper down a few inches.  When Felicity’s breath caught in her throat, he stopped.

He saw nothing but cream skin beneath the section of jacket he’d opened, and he traced the edge of the material, easing it toward her shoulder as he slipped his fingers underneath to explore the straight line of her collarbone.  The moment he pushed his hand under the heather gray edge, Felicity moaned out loud.  His eyes flew to hers, curious to see if she would be embarrassed by the rather bold noise she’d made, but her lids remained closed, and her face looked just as serene as ever. Oliver tested his boundaries, moving his hand lower and massaging across the upper part of her chest.

“Mmm, Oliver, you’re like a magician,” she murmured, turning her face toward his body as if seeking some refuge.

Oliver inched even closer to her, silently offering his support, and the moment her forehead came into contact with his bicep Felicity sank into him.  Her fingers curled into the skin on his lower arm as she purred in response to the continued movement of his hand beneath the collar of her jacket. Oliver glanced down to her chest and noticed the tautness of her nipples straining against the material. He gritted his teeth together, trying to maintain his composure as she emitted needy noises with every stroke of his fingers on her bare skin. 

Felicity’s legs shifted against the ground, her knees pressed together as she purred, and Oliver swallowed hard against the rapid pulsation of his heart inside his throat. He knew he couldn’t keep these touches of skin on skin chaste for much longer.  For his own sanity, he pulled his fingers out from beneath the fabric and returned to the familiarity of petting her jacket sleeve.  But Felicity seemed to enjoy that touch just as much, and she snuggled her forehead even farther into the crook of his arm. Oliver dropped his nose into her hair, taking a deep breath to fill his lungs with the sweet floral scent of her gold curls.  Felicity gripped tighter to his forearm the moment he breathed her in, and Oliver’s hand slipped off of its normal, safe path, taking a detour down to her waist. 

He lifted his head just enough to watch his fingers as they found the little indentation of her hipbone. Gripping onto that perfectly formed handle, he pulled forward, edging her body even closer to his. She was practically beneath him now, and Oliver’s lungs squeezed inside his ribcage as she licked her lips and groaned with the pressure of his fingers.  His gaze drifted up, from her lush hips to her slender waist, to her perfect breasts outline with unearthly detail by the fitted jacket, to the full lips she’d just moistened. 

He stared at her mouth. He stared hard. The desire to kiss her burned through his veins, and he knew he had to do something, to say _something_ , to get his mind off of this craving.

“Felicity, please,” he begged, the huskiness of his voice an outright betrayal of his thoughts, “talk to me more.  Tell me something else about yourself.” 

She reached her other hand to his chest, balling the fabric of his T-shirt into her fist. “Hmm…what do you want to know, Oliver?” she whispered, her warm breath infusing his skin through the material of his shirt.

“Anything,” he said, drawing his fingers slowly back up her body, all the way to her face. “Anything you want to tell me.”

“Well…um…uh…”

Oliver eased his hand onto her jaw, his fingers skimming dangerously close to her mouth as he watched the movement with utmost intensity. 

“I don’t…I don’t know what to say,” she mumbled, the motion causing her lower lip to brush against his thumb. Oliver groaned at the contact and Felicity gathered more of his shirt inside her fingers as she turned her face up to his.  “I’m, um…hmm…I’m…allergic…to latex.”

For a few seconds, they both froze in place, neither one daring to move a muscle.  And then Felicity’s eyes popped open, round as saucers, and she sat bolt upright.  “And peanuts! I’m allergic to peanuts, too!”

Oliver continued to lie on the ground for a moment, briefly stunned by the rapidity of her withdrawal. But then he followed her to a sitting position, facing her as she stared at him with cheeks bright as cherries. He wanted to curse the fact that they weren’t touching each other anymore, but his mind was too preoccupied by what she’d just told him.  “You’re allergic to latex?”

“And peanuts,” she reiterated, clasping her hands tightly together in her lap.  “I have a funny story about it, actually. Well, not so much funny as sad. It was my freshman year of college and I wandered into this fraternity party and I wasn’t used to drinking and I had a few of those Kool-Aid things – you know the ones they mix up in the big trash bins with the Kool-Aid and some unknown form of alcohol – and I shouldn’t have been drinking, but then they were passing around this tray of brownies, and I really thought it was just like Betty Crocker or something, and my mother always told me to stay away from peanuts, because I got a rash once when I was a kid, not that I need to carry an Epi-pen with me or anything, and so anyway I kind of stayed away from peanuts, but I’d had a bit to drink, as I said, and I didn’t notice the peanuts were in the brownie, although I didn’t know the pot was in there, either, and next thing I knew my eyelids swelled up and my lips got really big, but I didn’t even care because of…well, because of the pot, I’m assuming, although, I can assure you, I’ve never done drugs on purpose, and that was just a really unfortunate night.”

Oliver blinked a few times as he looked at her.  He wasn’t sure if he’d ever heard a longer run-on sentence in his life.  But that wasn’t what interested him.  “Why did you tell me that you’re allergic to latex, Felicity?”

Her fingers twisted around each other.  “I don’t know. I guess…you said you wanted to know something about me.”

Oliver focused in, pinning her with his eyes, because he wasn’t going to let her off that easily. “But why did you tell me about latex, specifically?”

She shook her head as she slumped against the tree trunk at her back.  “Oh, God.  It’s…it’s because you were touching me, and it felt amazing, and I was thinking about condoms.”

 _There it is_.  Oliver rested his arms against his knees as he leaned toward her.  “So what you’re telling me is that we won’t be able to use condoms when we’re together.”

Her head tilted as she looked at him.  “I’m so sorry, Oliver. I know I said last night that it would be a mistake for us to act on this thing between us, and I shouldn’t have brought it up again, but your touch felt so incredible and I just…”

“I want you, too, Felicity,” he said, because for some unimaginable reason he didn’t think she knew that he wanted her.  Or, at least, she didn’t know how fiercely he did.

“You do?” she asked, her eyes widening again.  “I mean, you just said you do, so that’s…yeah, that’s fantastic.  And I want you, too.  Obviously.  Like, I know it’s really obvious, and I feel kind of bad about how obvious it is, but I want you to know that I’m disease free.”  She stopped talking for a moment as her eyebrows shot to her hairline and her shoulders stiffened again.  “Oh my God, I don’t know why I just said that, except that I just told you I’m allergic to latex, and I don’t want you to think I’m asking you to do something reckless, because I’m not.  I’m really not asking you to have unprotected sex with me, although I guess I kind of just did, apparently, and there are certain types of condoms I _can_ use, but they’re made out of weird things like animal intestines, and they don’t prevent the spread of diseases anyway, and even if they did, I didn’t bring any with me, because this is Blissful Blue and I wasn’t exactly thinking that I would have this kind of situation while I was here, and I don’t think the caretaker, Pete, would have the kind of condoms I need, and dear God, I can’t even imagine having to ask sweet old Pete for condoms, so I’m just completely unprepared for all of this, but I really am disease free, although I didn’t bring medical paperwork with me or anything, but I’m sure you’re disease free, too, because you look like the type of person who is really particular about what goes on inside your body, and I promise I’m not interested in getting pregnant, I mean, I promise I’m on birth control, I’ll even show you the pills if you like, and I assure you I have no desire to be a single mother, not that there’s anything wrong with being a single mother, I’m just not interested in that, although I’ll never say never, because who knows what the future holds, but even if I wanted to be a single mother they have sperm banks for that kind of thing, and…”

“Felicity!”

She swallowed hard. “Yes?”

“Take a breath, please.”

Oliver watched as she registered his words.  Then she nodded, and inhaled and exhaled.  He saw her fingers unclench, and found that he could breathe easier himself. Undeniably, he’d pressed her on the latex allergy thing, because he wanted her to admit the truth of why she’d said it, but he had no earthly idea that it was going to send her into this kind of tailspin. 

“Are you okay?” he wondered aloud.

“I’m just…kind of… _mortified_ ,” she admitted, her eyebrows scrunching together as she looked at him.  “I don’t suppose we could just agree that the last five minutes never happened?”

Oliver shook his head slowly. “No, I can’t agree to that. Because there’s nothing for you to be embarrassed about.  You wanted to have the safe sex discussion, and I appreciate it.  Of course, you chose a really interesting way to have that particular conversation, but I would expect nothing less from you. And yes, I am disease free, although I don’t have any medical paperwork with me, either.  And no, we don’t need to use condoms when we’re together, as long as you feel comfortable with that.”

“Oh,” she said. “Okay.”

Oliver watched as she worried her lower lip in her teeth and he couldn’t help smiling. “Are you feeling better about it all now?”

“Yes, thank you,” she offered, her shoulders finally easing away from the level of her ears.  “I’m so sorry about the babbling thing.  I haven’t done that in years.”

“You used to babble?”

“All the time. Especially as a kid. My mind would just get away from me, and I couldn’t stop my mouth from going.  But I haven’t done it since I got therapy in college.”

“I take it you’ve liked psychiatric therapy ever since college, then.”

“I do like it, because it was really helpful to me.  And it’s been so long since I’ve babbled that I thought I’d completely conquered it. So that’s weird.”

“What’s weird?”

“It’s just, it must be you. There’s something about you that affects me…differently.  You’re so _unexpected_ , Oliver.”

He stared blankly at her then, with his brow raised and his jaw unhinged, because he felt fairly certain that he’d just witnessed the ultimate pot-calling-the-kettle-black moment.

Felicity shook her head. “Or maybe it’s because I’ve never done this before.”

“Never done what?”

“ _This_ ,” she repeated while motioning from him to her and back again.

Oliver tried to wrap his mind around her apparent inexperience.  “So…you’ve never taken a lover before.”

She bit into her lip for a moment, and then giggled.  “ _Lover_.  That sounds creepy no matter how you say it.”

Oliver chuckled. “Yeah, I guess it does.” He concentrated on her eyes, holding her gaze steady with his own, in the hope that she could stay focused while they discussed this rationally.  “But I have to assume that you’ve had lovers before, Felicity, since you know you can’t use latex condoms, and since you’re incredibly beautiful and I can’t imagine that men haven’t lined up for the chance to be with you.”

With his words, a flush of pink moved from her neck into her cheeks, like an artist’s canvas coming to life, and Oliver watched her in complete fascination.

“I’ve been with a few men, although I can assure you that no one has ever formed a line,” she admitted, her voice soft and soothing against his skin.  “But this – whatever this thing is between us – it’s unusual, and I don’t exactly know how to handle it.  I don’t really feel like I’m standing on even ground here.”

He huffed out another laugh. “Believe me, I know the feeling.”

Felicity smiled into his eyes. “Part of me wants to say that we’re both on vacation, and we’re both adults, and we can do whatever we want. Another part of me…”

“Thinks it might be the worst idea ever?” he finished her sentence, remembering their words from the previous night.  He watched as she took a deep breath and sighed.

“Exactly. What do you think, Oliver?”

He knew what he thought. He wanted her, plain and simple. He wanted to hold her, to taste her, to push himself inside her.  But then again, something told him there would be nothing plain or simple about being with Felicity.  She was absolutely right; whatever existed between them was unusual.  Honestly, this whole fucking situation was absolutely bizarre, and he only knew one thing for certain:  he couldn’t tolerate her lying to him.  As much as he wanted to throw caution to the wind, as much as he wanted to happily drown in his desire for her, as much as he wanted to pretend the dishonesty between them didn’t exist, he just couldn’t do it.

“I’ll tell you what I think, Felicity.  I think you’ve lied to me, repeatedly.  And even though it sounds like you’ve worked it out in your mind that your lies were actually helpful to me, I can’t be with you if you’re still lying.  So, what I want from you, before we go any further, is the truth.”

Felicity stared at him for a long moment, as if she couldn’t quite grasp the meaning of his words. Then her gaze drifted down to the dirt floor between them.  “The truth is that I’ve lied to you about more than just squirrels and trees, Oliver,” she spoke to the ground, her lips trembling with the admission.

 _I know that,_ he thought.  And he knew exactly what she’d lied about – it was the fact that she was a patient here, just like him, and not a freelance nature photographer.  At least, he hoped she wasn’t a photographer, because the picture she’d taken of the bird in the tree was unfocused and poorly composed and just terrible.  And then today, when they were supposed to be bird watching, she hadn’t even remembered to bring her camera.  If Felicity was on assignment, she was officially the worst reporter ever.  And Oliver figured _National Geographic_ would have much higher standards than that.

No, she was absolutely not a reporter.  She was a patient, and she’d lied about it from the moment she met him.  In a way, he didn’t blame her for it.  After all, she didn’t know anything about him when she’d first stepped out of the woods and found him crouched down and growling by his blown tire.  And, as much as she insisted that she knew he was a good person from the get-go, she probably hadn’t wanted to admit her weakness in front of a complete stranger.

But they weren’t strangers anymore; they were so much more than that.  So much more than acquaintances, too.  They could be lovers.  Oliver wanted that.  He wanted to spend these few precious days of vacation wrapped up inside her body. But, in order to do that, he needed Felicity to tell him the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. He just couldn’t bear to be vulnerable with her if she was unwilling to be vulnerable with him.

“Please tell me what you’ve lied to me about,” he encouraged, keeping his voice low and even as he looked to her downcast eyes.  “Because I want complete honesty from you.  About everything.”

Felicity blew out a breath as she clenched her hands together in front of her.  “It’s…it’s complicated, Oliver.”

“Then un-complicate it for me. Be honest with me.”

“I can’t give you complete honesty.”

“You can’t or you won’t?”

Felicity shook her head, running her fingers through her hair as she continued to gaze at the ground. Oliver watched as she dropped her hands back into her lap, watched as her hair fell across her shoulders. And then he saw it. A little red leaf, with tiny green veins threaded through it, clung to her gold curls.  It had wound its way into the blond strands while she’d been lying on the ground, and it refused to leave now that she sat up.

Oliver stared at the leaf. He wanted to take it out for her. But he didn’t just want to take it out; he wanted to run his fingers through her loose curls again, to feel the softness of her skin against his own.  He wanted to hear her moan and sigh and pant with the sensation, and know that his touch was the reason for the change in her breathing.

He knew he could have her right now, if he let himself.  He could lift her off of this cold, hard ground and pin her up against this damn oak tree and fuck her until she felt alive.  Until they both felt completely alive, even if just for a few moments. Felicity wanted to feel alive, and Oliver knew he could give her that.  But not like this.  Not with these lies between them.

“So, then? What’s it going to be, Felicity?” he snapped, his multitudinous frustrations beginning to bubble over the simmering surface.

She looked up to him then, looked deep into his eyes, and Oliver could see the sadness and regret inside of her sky blue.  He had her back with him – the Solemnly Sedate Felicity – the woman he’d met briefly that first lemonade-night. The woman who lamented the fact that she was _on vacation_. The woman who looked normal and lucid and deeply unhappy.  He had her back now, but he could tell by the look in her eyes that this Felicity wasn’t willing to give him _anything_.

This Felicity wasn’t like the Frolicking Freebird Felicity he was used to, because Frolicking Freebird Felicity would give him _everything_. Right this second, he wasn’t sure which Felicity he wanted to be with.  He only knew he needed them both to be honest with him. 

Oliver watched her sad eyes for another long minute before he realized what her silence meant. “You’re not going to tell me the truth, are you?”

She shook her head slowly.

“Okay,” he spoke through gritted teeth, “well, I guess we should head back, then.”

He stood swiftly, separating himself from her body, as he tried to shake off the dirt from his clothing.  Felicity picked herself off of the ground a moment later, brushing off her pants before looking up to his face.  Oliver took a deep breath, giving himself a minute before meeting her eyes.

“I’ll take you to your cabin,” she said, her voice as light as a feather.

“I’d appreciate that,” he replied, keeping his tone formal.

Felicity nodded briefly and then turned away from him, leading him on an unbeaten path through the trees and underbrush.  Oliver followed along behind her, trying desperately not to look at the little leaf that still held strong in the curls of her hair.  But he couldn’t help himself.  He watched the way the tiny red-and-green culprit moved inside her gold strands. He watched how it clung to her, how it didn’t want to let go.  And he understood that feeling all too well.

By some miracle, Felicity actually found her way back out of the forest and to his cabin. Oliver had never been so happy to see the quaint log abode before.  Stepping up on the first stair of his log porch, a wave of relief passed over him.

“Oliver?”

His footsteps froze with her tiny, singsong voice.  Oliver turned around slowly, remaining on the porch step as he looked down at her. “Yes?”

Felicity shifted her feet against his gravel driveway.  “I know I probably don’t have the right, but could I ask you to do a favor for me, as my friend?”

“Your _friend_?” he echoed, his eyebrow arching.

“Yes. My friend.”

Oliver watched her – seeing the hope in her eyes, tempered by a healthy dose of sorrow – and he felt himself soften.  “You can ask, Felicity.”

She grasped her hands together in front of her, her fingers working hard against each other. “Will you please attend some of the therapy sessions while you’re here?  It doesn’t matter which doctor you choose; they’re all very good. I just…I need to know, in case I don’t see you again, that you’ll talk to someone.”

_In case I don’t see you again._

Her words left a bitter taste in his mouth, even worse than pure lemon juice, and Oliver reminded himself that it was his choice to end this friendship.

Part of him wanted to deny her request, to tell her that she had no right to ask him for any favors. But as he stood here, watching her fret her fingers together and nibble against her lip, his shoulders fell and he exhaled. “I promise I’ll think about it.”

“Thank you,” she breathed, looking up at him from the gravel.  “Goodbye, Oliver.”

He didn’t respond. He simply stood and watched as she turned away, forcing himself to listen to the crunch of her boots as she moved farther and farther up the driveway.  She was almost out of sight before he called to her.  “Felicity?”

She pivoted back toward him immediately.  “Yes?”

Even at this distance, he could see the light in her eyes.  “It’s just…you just…"  He inhaled sharply, his fists balling at his sides.  "You have a leaf in your hair.”

“Oh.” She reached her hands up to find it.

Oliver watched her comb her fingers softly through her curls and he swallowed hard.

Felicity finally discovered the tiny freeloader, and she pulled it out and rested it inside her palm. “Hmm…he’s a handsome little fellow. I’m going to set him on my kitchen counter, so I can see him every day.”  Her eyes moved back to his, although the light inside them was dimmer than it had been a moment ago, and she offered him a gentle smile.  “Thank you, Oliver.”

“Sure,” he said, watching as she nodded and turned away again, moving back up the driveway while twirling the leaf’s stem between her fingertips. 

“You’re doing the right thing,” Oliver muttered under his breath.

He stood stiffly on his porch and watched Felicity walk away from him. 

And he fucking hated it.

But there was nothing else he could do.

...

A/N:  Thank you so much for reading!  I'd love to know what you think :)  Tina

Up next...Chapter 5: To Touch or Not To Touch


	5. Imaginary Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey lovelies!! I want to thank you, from the bottom of my butt (it's a lot bigger than my heart), for all of the wonderful comments and the follows for this story - it just makes me so happy and giddy and dance-y! And now, I really have to apologize to you, because I made a HUGE mistake on this chapter...because I started writing it and writing it and I couldn't stop! And it actually ended up being over 23,000 words! I don't know what happened exactly; it just kept getting bigger and bigger (that's what she said!). So anyway, I came to the conclusion that I couldn't vomit 23K words on you all at once (I've cleaned up a lot of vomit in my day...it ain't pretty!), so I split this into two chapters. This first one is now called "Imaginary Friends". The second part, "To Touch or Not To Touch", is currently in the spit-polish stage. The (hopefully) good news is that I should have that chapter out in the next few days. Thank you so much for hanging in there with me! You are all so awesome :)

After Oliver watched Felicity walk away from him, after he grumbled and grunted as he marched up the steps of his porch, after he forced his way inside his cabin and yanked the door shut behind him, Oliver stood in the middle of his log living room and stared into space. 

He hated watching her walk away from him.  He hated that he’d pushed her away.  He hated that she wasn’t with him anymore.  And he hated the havoc that all of it created inside his body.

His mind swam. His heart ached. His hands shook. His eyes stared.

He just kept staring, straight ahead of him, and even though he was alone now, in complete solitude in his living room, all Oliver could see was her…his little forest fairy, standing in front of him. 

It was an ethereal image: this Felicity his mind created to be with him here and now. 

She looked like a ghost, a sparkling spirit, too bright and celestial to be real. Oliver knew he couldn’t touch this picture of her.  He knew he couldn’t feel her skin beneath his fingertips, or hear the infectious joy of her laughter. But he still wanted to look.

At first, this otherworldly Felicity gave him a brilliant smile, her body bouncing with childlike innocence as she held her hand out to reach for him.  Oliver knew _this_ Felicity very well; this was his Frivolous Freebird Felicity, and part of him wanted to throw his arms around her and dance.  Even though he never danced. 

But then the image changed. Frolicking Felicity transformed right in front of him.  Her smile fell, and she regarded him with intelligent, knowing eyes – eyes that held such pain and loneliness, even as they looked straight through all of his bullshit and right into his soul.  Oliver knew this Felicity, too; this was Solemnly Sedate Felicity, and part of him wanted to sit with her and talk with her and soothe the ache he could see so clearly inside her.  Except he knew that _this_ Felicity was closed tight, and wouldn’t allow him to see anything.

Oliver looked away. Shoving his hands through his hair, he averted his gaze from the separate, but equally unsettling, pictures he’d conjured of her.  There were definitely two different people living inside of his forest fairy. He had no fucking idea how she fit both of those women into that tiny little body of hers, but they were there. And Oliver honestly didn’t know which one of them he preferred.  He just knew he should stay away from both.

 _“_ Goddamn it,” he growled as he trudged through the living room, stripping off his clothes on his way to the bathroom.  He needed to get in the shower again, to wash off whatever remnants of nature might still be clinging to him.  And he needed to get the smell of her tiny flowers off of his body and out of his brain.  Because Felicity was just everywhere, and right now he needed her gone.

Once he stood under the pummeling water, he scrubbed his skin.  He scrubbed and scrubbed, until he was nearly raw.  And then he braced his hands against the shower stall, dropping his head to let the spray pour over his back as he melted beneath the heat.

He tried not to think about her.  He tried not to think about what happened between them in the woods this morning. But it was too fresh, and too frightening, and he couldn’t control his mind.  When he gave in to the realization that he couldn’t rid himself of her right now, and that he probably didn’t even want to, he closed his eyes and whispered her name. 

“Felicity.”

He’d told her things he’d never told anyone.  He’d already confessed, the other night, about the asshole he’d been in high school. Today he confessed that he’d never held baby Sara.  And he also admitted that he didn’t understand why his best friend loved him.

Oliver didn’t know why he said those things to her.  Except that he trusted her.  Despite all her lies, he believed he could trust Felicity with anything.  That was a confusing contradiction, but it wasn’t the most confusing thing about their bizarre friendship. 

The most confusing thing was that he wanted to _keep_ confiding in her.  He wanted to be honest with her, as much as he could be.  He just didn’t know why she wouldn’t be honest with him.  She said she _couldn’t_ be honest with him, and he didn’t understand it, and it just killed him. Because what he wanted, more than anything, was for her to be open.  He wanted her laid out in front of him; he wanted her completely bare. Literally and figuratively.

Straightening his body inside the shower, Oliver ran his hand across his chest, distinctly aware of the powerful ache inside him.  He’d been more vulnerable with her today than he’d been with anyone, ever in his life. It left him feeling raw. And exposed.  And it hurt.

 _Why can’t you just be vulnerable with me, too, Felicity?_ he silently questioned the image of his little forest fairy, the one that returned so easily to his mind.  But his imaginary Felicity just smiled at him, and danced around in a circle, and didn’t answer at all.

“Fuck,” Oliver growled. “Fuck all of this.”

He cut off the water, jumped out of the shower, dried off, dressed in a fresh T-shirt and shorts, and grabbed his key card.  Then he ran through the living room and yanked open the front door, slamming it shut behind him as he pushed his way up the gravel driveway.  He needed the gym right now.  Exercise would clear his head, and work all the frustrations out of his body, sexual and otherwise. 

He just wished Digg were here to challenge him in the boxing ring.  He needed to punch and be punched.  And he also just missed his friend.  He missed Digg’s calm and his strength.  Plus, there was absolutely no way Digg could beat him in the ring today, because Oliver would put up one hell of a fight. 

Oliver had some hope, when he stepped through the door into the cardio room, that he could get Felicity out of his head.  But two hours on the treadmill still didn’t do the trick.  She was with him, as sure as if she’d been perched on his back the entire time, which made him imagine her as a bird, sitting on one of his branches and whistling a little tune in his ear.  And Oliver really didn’t care for that image, because it meant that he was the tree, with all of its little cracks and crevices in the bark, and that was way too unsettling.

After the treadmill, Oliver moved to a weight lifting machine and continued to torture his body. His muscles still hurt from the Twister-stretching the night before, and they strained against the load he forced on them.  But he didn’t stop. He didn’t give in. He just kept going and going, pushing and pushing, until he truly had absolutely nothing left and his only choice was to admit defeat.

When he finally exited the gym and started back up the road, Oliver’s fingers trembled. He acknowledged the fact that it was almost dinnertime and he hadn’t eaten anything all day, except for part of a croissant and half a cup of orange juice.  But, even though he was starving, he didn’t think that was the reason for the trembling.  He knew he just didn’t want to go back to his cabin.  He just didn’t want to be alone.

Hope came in the form of whistling. The sound originated from up the road before him, and Oliver smiled, because he recognized the voice. “Hey there, Tommy!”

Tommy caught his eye as he ambled down the hill with a spring in his step.  “Hey, Oliver!  Good to see you, man! I missed you this morning at the gym. I thought we could have a rematch of hoops.”

Oliver came to a stop in front of his friend.  “Yeah, that would have been fun.”  _And so much easier than spending the morning the way I did._ “What are you up to now? Interested in doing something? I was just at the gym but I could head back.”

“Sorry,” Tommy offered with a frown.  “I’m heading to dinner with Helena.”

“Oh.” _Shit_. “Well, no problem. Perhaps another time.”

“How about a rematch in the morning?”

“Yes, definitely.”

“Great. Are you coming to the Social tomorrow evening?  It’s a great chance to meet everyone, especially the _ladies_ ,” Tommy said, wiggling his eyebrows in a bizarrely cartoonish display of fervor.

Oliver laughed, not at Tommy’s boyish silliness, but at the irony of the suggestion. The last thing Oliver wanted to do was to meet another woman up here.  “Probably not, but I will definitely take you up on the basketball game.”

“Gym. 9 a.m.  When you get there, I’ll change your mind about the Social.”

 _Good luck_.  “See you then.”

With a nod and a goofy smile, Tommy proceeded past him, whistling his way down the mountain, looking as if he didn’t have a care in the world.  Oliver stood and watched him for a few moments.  He honestly couldn’t recall the last time he’d looked or felt that carefree.  Definitely not when he was with McKenna, whom he’d supposedly loved.   Hell, he probably hadn’t been _that_ happy since high school, and that was just a stupid, unwitting, uncaring kind of teenage boy happiness.  That wasn’t what he was looking for now.  That wasn’t what he needed. 

Oliver turned and started back up the road to his cabin.  He thought about McKenna for a moment, thought about the simplistic perfection that was their life together.  Yet, in the end, he didn’t want it; he pushed away the perfection.  He didn’t know why, but he was beginning to think it was because McKenna didn’t challenge him.

Was that what he needed? A challenge?

All Felicity _ever_ did was challenge him.  Lemonade.  Twister. Lies.  She told him in the forest that she’d done all of it for his own good. Because she wanted to make sure he would fight back.  Because she wanted to know that he hadn’t given up on life. 

As Oliver moved farther up the mountain, he repeated the same sentence he’d told her this morning in the woods.  “I haven’t given up on life, Felicity,” he said, knowing deep down that the reassurance had been just as much for her as it had been for him.  It might have even been _more_ for her.  And Oliver had no idea why it meant so much for her to hear those words, which confused the living shit out of him. 

“God, Digg, where are you when I need you?” he mumbled as he started down his driveway. He wished his best friend would just spontaneously appear before him, right here and now.  He could imagine Digg smiling at him, but also probably shaking his head and heaving a sigh.  But Oliver wouldn’t care, because he knew Digg would sit on the living room couch with him, and pop open a beer with him, and listen to his questions and his fears. He knew Digg would look at him with his perceptive eyes, and then tell him exactly what he should be doing right now. That was precisely what Oliver needed, because he honestly didn’t know what the hell to do. And that was a horrible fucking feeling.

As Oliver reached the first step of his porch, still lamenting the fact that his friend was hours away back in Starling, he heard the meal truck wheels coming down the driveway. Pivoting on his heels, he waited for Roy to come to a stop a few feet from the cabin, right beside Oliver’s pathetically hobbled Porsche.  Oliver watched as the near-silent delivery boy jumped out of the driver’s seat, opened the rear of the van, and pulled out his dinner tray.

“Hi,” Oliver offered as Roy approached him. 

Roy nodded stiffly and held out the tray. 

Oliver took it, and then cleared his throat.  “Roy? It is Roy, right?”

The boy smiled. “Yes, Mr. Queen.”

“Call me Oliver, please.”

“Okay,” he agreed with a furrowed brow.  “Do you need something?”

“Yeah, actually. I was wondering, when you bring dinner tomorrow, if you could also bring me a six-pack of beer? I don’t really care what kind.”

Roy pressed his lips together as he looked at him.  “Um, are you an alcoholic, Mr. Qu….Oliver?”

“No. Why?”

“Because I’m not allowed to deliver alcohol to alcoholics.  But you’ve only ordered one bottle of wine since you came, so I’m thinking you’re not.”

Oliver huffed. “What makes you think I’d actually admit it to you if I am an alcoholic?  It would be pretty easy for me to lie about it.”

“Yeah, but what good would that do you?  The first step is always admitting that you need help.  Everyone knows that.”

Oliver couldn’t help chuckling.  _Does everyone up here practice their own little bizarre form of psychology?_  “Do you mind waiting here for a minute, Roy?”

The boy shrugged beneath his red hoodie.  “Sure.”

Oliver turned on his heels and walked into his cabin, setting the food tray down on the coffee table before moving into his bedroom, taking his wallet out of the closet safe, and pulling out a hundred dollar bill.  Then he walked back to the porch and stepped down off the stairs toward the young man.  “Here,” he said, extending the money in his hand.  “I promise I’m not an alcoholic, Roy.  I’d just like a beer or two.”

Roy raised an eyebrow as he stared at the bill.  “I can’t take that.”

“Why not?”

“Well, first of all, everything you order goes on your tab.  Second, I don’t know where you call home, but around here a six-pack of beer doesn’t cost a hundred dollars.”

“Just take the money, please. Consider it a tip. You are allowed to accept tips, right?”

Roy reached out and took the bill, shoving it into the pocket of his jeans.  “Well then, thanks…I’ll put it in my savings fund,” he said while turning back toward the truck.  “And I’ll have your beer for you tomorrow.”

Oliver nodded as the boy hopped up into the driver’s seat.  “See you tomorrow.”

Roy smiled and then shut the door and drove back down the gravel driveway.

Feeling as if he had a little something to look forward to now, Oliver moved back up the porch steps and into the cabin.  First, he collapsed onto the couch cushions and devoured every last morsel of his meal. Then he stood and moved to the desk. Sitting on the log chair and opening his laptop, Oliver listened as the computer whirred to life. He felt his body ease a bit with the sound, although he could also hear Digg growling at him, pissed off that he was burying his head in work yet again.  But tonight, he just didn’t have a choice.  He needed this. 

Much to Oliver’s disappointment, he found that Queen Consolidated was functioning perfectly well without him. He knew he should be proud of his well-oiled machine, especially since he’d spent a month ensuring that all QC business deals would progress smoothly in his absence, but right now he just wanted something to occupy his attention.  If he was being honest with himself, he knew it was because he was still desperately trying to chase his thoughts of Felicity away.  He needed to keep his mind off of her, just long enough for exhaustion to overtake him so he could sleep. 

Not having any real work to do, Oliver chose the most mundane task he could think of, which was to look over the quarterly financial statements.  This realm of the company usually fell to the Queens’ long-time family friend, their CFO, Walter Steele.  Oliver already knew that the statements would be in perfect order, because Walter was a professional, and a perfectionist, and someone Oliver could trust implicitly. Which meant that reviewing the financial records would be the most boring, draining, and coma-inducing activity of all time, and that was perfect.  Because Oliver needed a good coma right now.

Sure enough, hours and hours later, Oliver’s eyelids drooped and his muscles ached and his shoulders sagged. Finally, he dragged himself off to bed. Then he tossed and turned all night.

…

Oliver awoke to sunshine lying across his patchwork comforter.  Although “awoke” was a strong word, because he never really felt like he’d been asleep.  He’d spent the entire night in that hazy place been rest and wake, and it forced him to acknowledge the fact that the only good night of sleep he’d had since he came to Blue was the one night when he knew he would see Felicity in the morning. But that didn’t make any sense, because she was all tornadoes and wildfires and challenges, and that shouldn’t make him feel peaceful.  And yet it did.

Oliver tried very hard not to think about what that meant. 

Sitting up in bed, Oliver pushed himself off of the mattress and into the bathroom.  He made the decision to skip his normal sit-ups and push-ups this morning, since he still ached from his ridiculously aggressive workout yesterday afternoon.  And he decided to skip his shower, since he was just going back to the gym for basketball anyway, and would need to shower again when he returned. He also mostly ignored his line of personal care items in the bathroom.  He did, however, put on his deodorant.  Because otherwise, he would feel sorry for poor Tommy. 

After spending his early morning doing almost nothing as he normally would, Oliver forced his feet into his gym shoes and exited his cabin, heading down the driveway toward the road. It occurred to him as he walked that this was the most unusual morning he could remember, in as long as he could remember, because he hadn’t done anything the way he typically would. He figured Felicity would be proud of him for that.  If she knew, his frolicking freebird would probably grin up at him, and bounce around a bit, and then put her hand over his heart and tell him he’d done a good job.

Oliver smiled with that thought, wishing he could see her right now.  Wishing she would just show up by the side of the road, so he could tell her how different and free he’d been today.  Of course, he was still mad at her.  And he still needed her to be completely honest with him. But that didn’t mean he didn’t want her to know how well he was doing with letting some things go.

When he reached the main road, Oliver glanced to his right, toward Cabin 10.  Nearly an entire day had passed since he’d seen her. He wanted her to be here. He wanted her to be leaving her driveway and walking down the road toward the gym.  He wanted to see her, so he could tell her how well he’d done this morning.

He would still have to growl and glower at her a bit.  Most certainly. And he would have to insist that they have lengthy, tiring discussions about her bizarre need to lie to him. But, after that, he would be able to let himself go.  He would be able to just be with her, and feel the sensation of her fingertips against his arm as she petted him, and look down into her sparkling blue eyes, and forget everything else in the world, even if just for a few moments.

Oliver stood, still and breathless, looking toward Cabin 10.  But there was no Felicity coming down the road.  And, deep down, he knew she wouldn’t be.  She wouldn’t be coming to the gym, because he never saw her at the gym. In fact, he never saw her anywhere in public. He only ever saw her when they were alone. And that thought made his brow furrow.

Turning to his left and continuing down the pavement, Oliver considered each moment he’d been with his forest fairy:  first by the side of the road; twice when he went to her cabin; once at his own; and then in the woods. Each time, they were always alone. Just the two of them.

Oliver chuckled then, a tad bit maniacally, because the funniest thought entered his brain.

_What if she doesn’t actually exist?  What if I’m so stressed out that I’ve completely and utterly made her up? What if that’s the reason we’re always alone?_

Oliver stopped walking. His smile fell, and the V in his brow deepened, and a shiver ran the length of his spine.  He shoved his hands through his hair with enough force to be painful. “Holy shit, I am officially going fucking crazy up here on this mountain,” he growled, not because he _actually_ _believed_ that he had made Felicity up, but because he _even_ _considered_ the possibility that he _might_ have made her up. 

“Good Lord, of course she’s real,” he assured himself, shaking his head as he resumed walking. She had to be real, because he distinctly remembered touching her.  He remembered how warm her skin felt beneath his fingertips.  He remembered how she sounded as she purred and whimpered while he pushed his hand beneath the tiny opening he’d made at the neck of her jacket. He remembered how she’d turned her face up to him as she curled his shirt up in her fierce little fist.

Although, he had to admit, if he _was_ crazy, then he probably could have made all of that stuff up, too.  Honestly, touching her yesterday felt too good to be true. So maybe it was too good to be true. Maybe Blissful Blue had truly gotten to him, and sucked reality right out of his head, and so he’d imagined every last teeny tiny bit of her. 

Oliver halted again on the pavement. He forced himself to take a deep breath in.  “ _No_ , goddamn it.  I didn’t fabricate her out of thin air.  She’s real. Because if I wanted to create a make-believe woman in my head, it sure as hell wouldn’t be one who lies to me constantly.  That makes no fucking sense at all.” 

Oliver wanted to start walking again.  Right now. Purposefully.  To the gym. 

But he didn’t, because he felt too shaken by his thoughts.  Too shaken by the thought of his bizarre-yet-delicious imaginary friend. But then he remembered something, and he shouted out loud.  “Roy! _Roy_ saw her!  He talked to her yesterday morning at my cabin, and she talked back to him!”

Oliver’s shoulders dropped and he exhaled.  “Oh, thank God,” he muttered, his feet finally resuming their steady pace.  He wasn’t crazy.  She was real.  Because Roy saw her.

 _Unless I made Roy up, too_.

“Oh, for the love of all things holy, Oliver, go to the gym,” he grumbled to himself. “And stop thinking about her. Just make the decision to stop thinking about her, and then stop.”

…

Making the decision to stop thinking about Felicity sounded really easy. 

It turned out to be difficult as hell. 

Even hours later, with Tommy beside him the entire time, Oliver could barely focus.  Tommy babbled on and on about his night with Helena, about how they’d eaten a romantic dinner and gone for a walk under the stars, but Oliver hardly heard a word.  Because every time he saw another person walk out of the gym, or jog by the basketball court, he looked to see if it was Felicity.  And it never was.

When he missed his tenth basket in a row, Tommy finally caught hold of the ball and stood, staring him down. “What is up with you today, Oliver? You’re completely off your game. I’m starting to worry about you.”    

“Sorry,” he offered as he blew out his breath.  “My mind is…elsewhere.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Oliver shook his head firmly. “No, thanks.”

Tommy’s brow scrunched. “It’s alright, buddy; I understand. You’re not a big talker and that’s okay. But I do expect you to come to the Social tonight.  You can just let everyone else talk.  Believe me, they love to do that.”

“I just…I don’t know.”

“Well, if I make this basket, you’ll come,” Tommy announced just before tossing the ball effortlessly above his head and watching it swish through the rim.  “There you go.  It has been decided by a power greater than you.”

“And that would be?”

“The power of the basketball gods.  They will not be denied.”

Oliver chuckled. As much as he wanted to say no to the Social, he also couldn’t imagine spending another night alone, pouring over financial spreadsheets.  So he sighed and nodded.  “Okay, Tommy, I suppose it’ll be fun.”

“Yes it will.” Tommy winked, tossing him the ball.

 … 

By the time Oliver made it back to his cabin, lunch was already on the porch.  He took the tray inside, ate his meal and put the tray back out, and then jumped into the shower.  When he got out, he wrapped the towel around his waist and stood in front of the mirror in his room.  All of his workouts made his body physically powerful, but his face still looked as worn and weary as it had the day he’d arrived here.  Not that he really ever thought Blissful Blue was going to change him. Although it had definitely made him doubt himself today.

Oliver stepped away from the mirror to choose his clothes for the Social.  The itinerary said dress was business casual, so he decided on a long-sleeved ivory button down shirt with dark grey slacks and a matching sport coat. Putting on office attire made him feel more at home in his skin, and his confidence returned a bit as he made his way from the bedroom to the computer desk.  Sitting down on the red and green plaid cushion, Oliver waited patiently for his laptop to start.  He knew there wouldn’t be much, if anything, in the way of business matters to tend to, but he needed to try to make the time pass until the Social tonight.

The moment his search engine popped up, Oliver’s fingers froze against the keyboard. He meant to go straight to the QC website, but for some reason he didn’t.  He just stared at the screen, recalling all of the things he’d typed into here. Things like _fastest mammal_ and _Blue Ridge Mountain trees_.  It was so easy to look up Felicity’s lies on the computer.  But there was one truth he hadn’t searched for yet.

Moving his fingers deliberately, Oliver typed in the words _yellow crowned purple fantini_.  Then he hovered over the enter key.  All he had to do was press down.  All he had to do was hit the search button, and he would know, 100% for certain, that there was no bird, and that she was no photographer.

He sat, quietly and barely breathing, for a long minute.  And then he reached to the delete key and pressed it down hard, until the name was completely erased. 

God help him, he didn’t want to find out this way.  He wanted her to tell him that there was no bird.  He wanted her to tell him that there was no _National Geographic_ article.  He wanted to hear, from her own beautiful pink lips, that she was here because she needed help.  And he wanted her to tell him willingly, because he needed that vulnerability from her.

Oliver rubbed his hand over his forehead and then opened the QC homepage.  He logged in and went immediately back to the financial records he’d been scouring the night before.  Within moments, an Instant Message popped up on his screen.

_Walter Steele:  Hello, Oliver. How are you?_

Oliver stared at the IM, finding it strange, somehow, to know that another person was on the other end of his computer, back in the real world.  And then he smiled to himself, imagining Walter’s British accent through the words on the screen.  Walter wasn’t just a coworker to him; he was more like a second father, and Oliver missed the older man’s wise, comforting presence.

_Oliver Queen:  I’m fine, Walter. How are you?_

_Walter Steele:  Doing well, thank you. Just curious if something is wrong?_

_Oliver Queen:  Why would anything be wrong?_

_Walter Steele:  Because I can see that you were looking into the quarterly financial records for hours last night, and now you are back, looking into them again.  Is there a problem I need to know about?_

Oliver cringed, having never considered the fact that his CFO would know he’d been knee-deep in financial records while he was supposed to be on vacation.

_Oliver Queen:  No, Walter. No problem.  I didn’t mean to alarm you; I was just trying to fill up some free time._

_Walter Steele:  Oh? Aren’t you having fun mountain climbing with your parents?_

Oliver’s heart stopped dead in his chest.

His eyes widened as he stared at the screen.

_Aren’t you having fun mountain climbing with your parents?_

Oliver’s entire body shook as he absorbed those words.

Walter thought he was on vacation with his parents in Washington.  Everyone at work thought that.  And his parents thought he was in Cozumel with friends from the office. None of them knew where he really was. Because he’d lied.

“Holy shit. I lied to everyone,” he breathed. “And then I sat there yesterday, right on that forest floor with Felicity, insisting she tell me the truth. I demanded complete honesty from her, while here I am, lying to Walter, and to my coworkers, and to my parents. My God, I’m such a hypocrite. I’m the biggest fucking hypocrite in the whole goddamn world.” 

Oliver closed his eyes. He ran his fingers across his eyelids, working hard to breathe in and out.  After a long moment, when he could manage to control the tremor in his fingers, he looked back to his computer and typed:  _Vacation is fine. Thanks for all your hard work on the financials, Walter; they look perfect, as always. I won’t be in contact again until I get home. See you then._

He closed the laptop. Then he reached around the side of the machine and pulled the Internet cord out of the wall. Oliver stuck the computer back in its case and stood from the desk.  He walked back and forth across the floor of his cabin, pacing the living room for several minutes, before he exited his front door and sat down on the porch steps to wait.  He would wait here for Roy. And for the beer.

As Oliver waited, his battered and bruised mind crawled back to the same thought he’d had earlier in the day: _Maybe Felicity isn’t real.  Maybe I really did make her up.  Maybe I fabricated a sweet, loving, beautiful little liar in my mind, to teach me how awful it feels to be lied to by someone I care about._

His fingers clenched as every muscle he owned stiffened against the log steps. And then he spoke to himself out loud, because he just needed to hear someone’s voice.  “No.  Don’t go there again, Oliver. Because that is a ridiculous thought.”

Felicity couldn’t just be a figment of his imagination, right?  She wasn’t some sort of Ebenezer Scrooge type of you-will-be-visited-by-three-ghosts spirit sent to show him what he was doing wrong in his life, was she?  No, she wasn’t.  She absolutely could not be a stress-induced hallucination of insane proportions. Because that was a _fucking maniacal thought_.

Oliver twisted his fingers together and chuckled softly to himself as he sat on the porch and continued to wait. He had no earthly idea how long he sat there.  He just knew how relieved he was when the meal delivery truck finally came down his driveway.

Roy parked a few feet from the porch steps and hopped out.  He nodded briefly to Oliver before retrieving the tray from the back. And then he reached for something else, and Oliver held his breath until he saw the six-pack in Roy’s hand.

“You brought it,” Oliver sighed, reaching out to take the beer.  “Thank you.”

“Sure thing,” Roy replied, setting Oliver’s dinner on the porch and then turning back to the truck.

Oliver watched the young man walk away and he took a deep breath.  “Roy?”

Roy turned back when he reached the driver’s door.  He looked Oliver in the eye.  “Yes?”

“I don’t suppose you’d like to have a beer with me?”

“Um, well, I’d like to, but I can’t.  I have to drive the truck.”

“Oh, of course. That was a stupid suggestion. Sorry.”

Roy watched him for a minute, and then offered a smile.  “I can’t drink, but I could sit for a little while, if you want.”

“If…if you have the time.”

The boy nodded and walked over, joining Oliver on the porch steps.  Roy settled in beside Oliver, and they both looked out to the surrounding trees. Oliver grabbed a beer from the pack, popped the cap off of the bottle, and took a long drink.

At first, neither one of them said a word, and it was a peaceful silence.  But right now, Oliver needed more.  Fiddling with the label on his bottle, he cleared his throat. “So, Roy, what are you saving for?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Yesterday, when I gave you the hundred, you said you were going to put it in your savings fund.”

“Oh, that,” Roy acknowledged, his gaze dropping to the gravel beneath his feet.  “I have a year left of college, and I’m trying to save up so I can go back.”

“Did you have to stop for some reason?”

“Yeah…kind of a lot of reasons.”

Oliver heard a note of distress in the young man’s voice, and he turned to look at him. “What reasons?”

Roy rested his elbows against his knees and rubbed his hands together.  “The summer after my third year of college, my folks were in a car accident.  They both died. I couldn’t go back to college then, not just because I didn’t have the money, but because I was struggling to keep my head up.”

Oliver stilled, squeezing onto the bottle in his hand.  “God, I’m sorry.  Are you okay?”

“Okay is a strong word,” he offered with a chuckle, “but I’m making it.  I like it up here at Blue.  It’s peaceful, and it feels a bit like a home, at least until I can get back on my feet.”

“I’m sorry I asked,” Oliver said, his stomach churning.  “I mean…I’m not sorry I asked, but I’m sorry if it hurt you to talk about it.”

The young man smiled. “You know, if I’m learning anything up here, it’s that it gets a little easier, and just a little bit better, every time I say it out loud.”

Oliver watched the boy for a long minute, and then he shook his head and looked away, out into the surrounding trees.  He gripped the bottle so tightly in his fingers that he feared it might burst.  “Well, I’m glad this place could give you what you need for now.”

“Thanks.”

“Yeah,” he offered halfheartedly, knowing the boy shouldn’t have to thank him.  Oliver couldn’t imagine being an orphan.  His parents were his strength, especially as a young man. He took another drink of his beer and fell back into silence.

“So, what about you, Oliver?” Roy asked after several more minutes of stillness.

“What about me?”

“Is Blissful Blue giving you what you need for now?”

Oliver huffed out a laugh. “I don’t know. Maybe.”  But only because of her.  Only because of his forest fairy.  The one he may or may not have fabricated in his head.  “Can I ask you a question, Roy?”

“Sure.”

“Can you tell me about Felicity?”

Roy turned to look at him. “Are you asking me an existential question?”

“What?”

“Are you asking me about happiness?”

Oliver stared at him for a moment before chuckling.  “No, I’m not asking about happiness, Roy.  I’m asking about the woman, Felicity.  The person who was here yesterday morning when you delivered my breakfast?”

“Oh. Well, I’m glad you’re not asking me to tell you how to be happy, because I think everyone has to figure that out for themselves.  Although, unfortunately, I’m probably not going to be much help with the other Felicity, either.”

Oliver felt his heart trip over a beat.  “No? Why not?”  _Please don’t say it’s because she’s not real.  Please don’t say that._

“Well, as much as I’d like to help you out, I’m not supposed to talk about the other guests here. Because of discretion and all.”

“Oh, sure, of course. I completely understand. It’s just…she _was_ here, right?  I mean, you saw her here?”

Roy’s head tilted when he heard the words.  He stared at Oliver for a moment, and then smiled softly.  “Yeah, Oliver, she was here.”

Oliver closed his eyes and sighed.  “Thanks, Roy.”

“Sure thing.”

They relapsed into silence once again, and Oliver knew he should probably be completely mortified right now, for even asking that question.  But he was too relieved to care. 

“Well, it’s nice sitting here with you,” Roy offered after a long while sitting in amicable peace, “but I should really get going, before any of these dinners turn cold.”

“Yeah, of course. I want you to know that I appreciate the beer.  And the talk.”

“I’m here to talk anytime,” Roy assured as he stood and stepped down the driveway.

“Me, too,” Oliver called out, waiting until Roy turned back to look at him.  “I’m available to talk…if you ever need to.”

Roy gave him a boyish grin and a nod.  “Thanks,” he said before moving back to the truck.  Oliver waited until the young man was behind the wheel, and then he picked up the dinner tray and returned to his cabin.

He sat on the log couch and picked at his food, having little appetite, even though Roy had brought him steak tonight, which was his favorite.  As he pushed the meat around the plate, Oliver thought about the red-hooded young man with no parents.  He thought about his own parents, and how supportive they’d been throughout his life. He thought about the things that had happened to him as a teenager; things he couldn’t have gotten through without his mother and father.  He thought about how he’d lied to his parents, and to his friends and coworkers, about coming here to Blue.  And he thought about how he’d looked into his forest fairy’s eyes yesterday and demanded complete honesty from her, when he could barely be honest with himself, let alone anyone else in his life.

Oliver set his fork down. The living room was dark now, although he’d scarcely even noticed the sun setting.  Glancing to the clock on the wall, he realized the Social started a while ago, and now he would be more than fashionably late.  That was okay with him, because he didn’t really want to go anyway. But he would, because he promised Tommy he would. 

Pulling himself up off the couch cushions, Oliver pocketed his key card in his sport coat before carrying the food tray back to the porch.  Easing the door shut behind him, he walked off the steps and up the gravel drive. When he reached the main road, he turned to the right and forced himself to stare straight ahead, to maintain his composure. But his heart still thumped harder in his chest with every step he took toward Cabin 10.

He meant to pass by her cabin without even a sidelong glance.  He meant to move by without thinking about her at all.  But he couldn’t do that. 

Oliver stopped at the top of Felicity’s driveway and stared down the tree-lined path.  He wanted to walk down it.  He wanted to run to the end of the gravel and watch her open her door to him with a smile on her sweet lips and a sparkle in her blue eyes.

But he didn’t. He didn’t run down the driveway. He didn’t move at all.

He told himself that the reason he didn’t go to her was because he’d promised Tommy he would be at the Social.  But he knew that was a lie. He didn’t go to her because he still needed her to be honest with him, despite the fact that he’d told so many lies of his own.  He didn’t go to her because he needed her to be vulnerable with him and she wouldn’t. He didn’t go to her because he knew she could open him, and he didn’t know if he could ever open her. And he didn’t go to her because, despite all that, he knew that going to her was the one thing he wanted to do most in this whole entire world, and it absolutely terrified him.

Sucking in a deep breath and looking down to the pavement, Oliver forced himself away from her path. He kept his feet moving, watching every step he took, his designer shoes highlighted by the moonlight bursting sporadically through the overhanging tree branches.  He didn’t look up again until he could hear the din of music coming from ahead.

Cabin 13 was brightly lit, with wide windows that revealed multiple bodies moving around inside the large open rooms.  Oliver noted that this cabin was easily three times the size of any of the residential ones, and he could tell by the raucous sound of voices that the party was already in full swing. Stepping onto the front porch and grasping the door handle, he straightened his shoulders and attempted to settle his nerves.

The door opened to a rush of scents and sounds.  He could smell wine and beer, as well as expensive perfume and cologne, and he could hear the thumping beat of a song beneath the rampant conversations. Closing the door behind him, he took a good look around at the crowd of people.  They were all dressed like him:  business casual, leaning toward the more formal.  The women were beautiful, most sporting diamond jewelry and cosmetically enhanced smiles and chests.  The men were like him, well groomed and obviously affluent.  And Oliver couldn’t help but chuckle a little beneath his breath, because he realized that this looked just like any business function he’d ever been to in his life. 

What had Digg told him about the people up here at Blue?  _They’re working people, just like you, Oliver._   And they were. All of these people looked like the people he knew, the people he spent time with nearly every day of his life. He wasn’t sure, right this minute, if that made him happy or sad.

“Hey there, friend! I’m George,” a tall, thin man in a black suit greeted from his side.

“Oliver,” he replied, shaking the man’s hand.

“You an alcoholic, Oliver?”

 _God, do I look like an alcoholic?_ “Um…no. Should I be?”

A deep laugh emanated from George’s reedy chest.  “Good one, good one. Anyway…the beer and wine is over on the back table.  Help yourself. Non-alcoholic refreshments are over this way, if you’d rather.”

“Thanks, George,” Oliver offered as the man smiled and stepped away.  Oliver stood for a moment, looking across the faces in the crowd, until he finally spotted Tommy standing by the spirits table, talking to Helena and another woman. Oliver made his way through the crowd, returning the smiles he received along the way, until he came to a stop in front of his friend.

“You _did_ come,” Tommy announced the moment Oliver arrived. “I’m damn glad. You remember Helena?”

“Yes, of course. How are you?” Oliver offered as he turned toward the dark-haired beauty with the eyes of steel.

“I am doing well, thank you, Oliver. This is my friend, Isabel Rochev.”

Oliver glanced to the woman on Helena’s left.  She was just as beautiful as Helena, with rich, mahogany hair and big brown eyes. Her bone structure was perfect, her height in heels nearly six feet, as she stood only a few inches shorter than him. “Pleasure to meet you, Oliver,” she said, glancing down to his chest and then back up to his eyes before flashing an appreciative, albeit predatory, smile.  “Tommy was just telling us what a wonderful basketball player you are.”

Oliver ran a hand across the tight muscles in his neck.  “Oh, I don’t know about that.  He beat up on me pretty good today.”

“Only because you were distracted,” Tommy interjected.  “Otherwise, your form was perfect.”

“What were you distracted by, Oliver?” Helena questioned as her gaze descended on him.

“Just…things. I’m a little preoccupied, I suppose.”

Tommy patted him on the back. “Aren’t we all? That’s why most of us are here, isn’t it?  Because we need to let all of that go and just enjoy ourselves.”

“Have you been to see Dr. Quentin Lance yet?” Isabel asked.

“Um, no. I can’t say that I have.”

“Oh, you really should. He’s the resident psychiatrist here. The guest physicians come and go, but Dr. Lance is always here, sturdy and stable.  He gave the most wonderful talk this week about about finding your inner calm.”

“Yes, he’s truly a genius,” Helena added. “I always feel like I have a new perspective after listening to him.”

“I enjoyed that talk as well,” Tommy agreed, continuing on with the discussion of Dr. Lance’s admirable qualities. 

The three chatted in tandem and Oliver just stood and listened for a long time, amazed by how openly everyone discussed psychotherapy, as if it was the norm.  But then again, he supposed that it _was_ the norm here.  And that didn’t scare him nearly as much today as it had five days ago, when he’d first set foot on this mountain.  When he’d first seen his little fairy step out of the forest.

“So, Oliver, what do you do for a living?” Isabel asked, pulling him from his thoughts as she moved closer to stand by his side.

Tommy harrumphed. “Isabel!  You know we don’t talk about business at these parties!”

“It’s okay,” Oliver said with a shrug.  He could talk about business.  Business was the easiest thing for him to talk about.  “I actually run a company called Queen Consolidated.”

Isabel’s eyes widened briefly before narrowing to near slits.  “You mean you’re _the_ Oliver Queen? The CEO of Queen Consolidated in Starling City?”

He forced a smile onto his lips.  “That would be me.”

Isabel wound her hand around his bicep then, curling her fingers into the material of his jacket. “That’s quite impressive. Your company is Fortune-500, isn’t it?”

Oliver nodded as he watched her brown eyes glitter.  “It is.”

“Amazing job you’re doing,” she offered, her gaze fastening on his mouth.

He wanted to laugh. Because even up here on this crazy-ass mountain, he couldn’t get away from this – the typical reaction of any woman who found out who he was.  Hungered looks?  _Check_.  Clawed fingers? _Check_.

He shook his head and said a half-hearted, “Thank you,” but Isabel didn’t move an inch from his side, or drop her hand from his arm.

“Ugh,” Tommy grunted from beside them.  “No more business talk, people.  Come on, let’s go dance.”

Oliver stilled as Tommy grasped Helena by the hand and pulled her to the next room and a waiting dance floor.  He felt Isabel’s hand tighten on his bicep. 

“Do you dance, Oliver?”

“No, I don’t,” he said, eager to dispel that notion.  “But tonight, I will drink.”

“Oh, alright. Wine or beer?”

“Let’s start with wine,” he decided, reaching for a pre-filled glass from the refreshment table and downing the entirety of the contents in one long gulp.  Then he set the glass down and picked up another.

Isabel took a wine glass for herself and sipped.  “You know, I will talk business with you, if that makes you happy. I’m actually the COO of a pharmaceuticals company in Florida.”

“Oh, really?” he said, trying hard to sound interested. 

“Yes. If you like, I can talk about business. Or about anything else.”

Oliver watched a half-smile pull at her dark painted lips and his stomach roiled.  “I will listen to anything you want to talk about, Isabel.”

She squeezed his arm again and tossed her head back with a laugh.  “Such a gentleman, Oliver.  And since you’re being so good, I’ll be good too, and _not_ talk business.  Those are Tommy’s rules, after all.  So, would you like to hear about my childhood?”

Oliver nodded and said, “Yes,” even though that was a complete and utter lie.  He brought the second glass of wine to his lips and drank it dry before setting it back on the table.  Then he stood, stiff and silent, as Isabel began speaking.

“Well, I was born in Miami, close to where my company’s home base is now.  My father owned a little convenience store and my mother…”

Oliver watched her mouth move with her words and wished desperately that this alcohol would kick in. Normally, he would never drink like this.  Drinking was for the purpose of being out of control, and that wasn’t a sensation he appreciated. But right now, he needed it. Because he couldn’t be with Felicity, which was where he desperately wanted to be.  And his only hope for getting through the night with Isabel was a good, strong buzz.

Oliver grabbed a third glass of wine and forced it down as Isabel continued talking, laughing at her own jokes while continuously caressing his arm.  He almost laughed too, at one point – not because he found her funny, but because he realized that Isabel’s touch against his body wasn’t at all therapeutic.  Not that he thought it would be. 

When the alcohol finally began to dull his senses, Oliver focused in on Isabel’s left eye, because he figured it would make him look like he was paying attention. That worked for a while, but then a movement caught his attention, and his gaze darted to the dance floor. There was a woman there, with long, loose blond hair, and for a moment his entire body froze. He stood, stiff and silent, holding his breath as he watched her.  A little light of hope swelled in his chest, but then his eyes drifted down to the blond woman’s butt, and he shook his head.  That wasn’t his forest fairy’s backside.  He would know Felicity’s perfect ass anywhere, and that definitely was not it.

Oliver glanced back to Isabel, whose thin lips still formed a lot of words.  He sighed, and his gaze fell to her shoes. They were red high heels. Oliver wondered if Felicity ever wore heels. He’d only ever seen her in hiking boots, or with bare feet.  Bare feet with adorable little painted toes.  But, even with heels on, he knew Felicity wouldn’t come close to his height. She was a little pixie forest fairy, and he would have to bend down when he kissed her.  Or he could just lift her.  He could grab hold of her perfect ass and lift her onto him, and feel every inch of her body pressed against his, feel her arms clutching his neck, feel her breasts crushed against his chest, feel her legs wrapped around his waist…

“Do you agree, Oliver?”

Isabel’s voice pulled him from his reverie, and he refocused on the left eyeball.  “Yes,” he said, not entirely sure what he’d agreed to.

Isabel smiled. “I feel the same way,” she purred, dragging her fingertips down his arm in order to give his hand a squeeze. Her touch was cool, her fingers thin, and Oliver reached for a fourth glass of wine as her constant speech restarted. Isabel kept holding onto him, and stepping even closer, and Oliver knew his jacket was going to smell like her. The thought repulsed him. Isabel’s perfume was heady and heavy and the only scent Oliver wanted on him was the fresh soap and tiny flowers that floated around his Felicity.

Isabel squeezed his hand again.

 _Shit_. He hated feeling her fingers against his.  He didn’t want her to touch him.  He wanted Felicity to touch him.  He didn’t even care which Felicity did the touching.   Frolicking Freebird Felicity or Solemnly Sedate Felicity…he wanted both, but he would take either. He just needed _something_ of her. 

“…and then, when I was seventeen, my brother went to college and I believe that was a real sense of loss for me…” Isabel’s voice continued.  Oliver stared at the woman in front of him.  Isabel’s hair didn’t shine quite like Felicity’s.  It didn’t move like Felicity’s, as if it had a mind of its own, or make him ache with the need to touch it.

“…but I still saw him on school breaks, and I realized I could still have him in my life…”

Her lips weren’t nearly as full as Felicity’s, and nowhere near as kissable.  They didn’t mesmerize him when she talked and when she smiled.

“…and then my friend Mitzy – the one with the golden retriever that I told you about earlier – came over and we both gave my brother advice on his new girlfriend…”

Her voice didn’t sing like Felicity’s.  Her words didn’t crawl beneath his skin and make him question everything. Her laughter didn’t stir his soul.

“…so years later he ended up marrying this girl, and I began to feel as if I should consider settling down, especially since I had developed so much of my career and nearly nothing of my personal life…”

Oliver heard those last words. He understood them. This was a thing he actually shared in common with Isabel, because the career he could handle; it was the personal life he stunk at.  But right now, standing here with this blandly ambitious creature in front of him, Oliver realized what he’d been doing wrong this whole time.  Because this woman didn’t challenge him at all, and yet this was exactly the kind of woman he’d spent his entire life seeking out. She was just like McKenna, just like all the McKenna’s of the world.

“I’m staying in Cabin 27,” Isabel’s voice broke his thoughts.  “If you’d care to walk me back to my place, I have a lovely bottle of Merlot we could share.”

Oliver straightened. The buzz in his head wasn’t loud enough to disguise Isabel’s intentions.  He could have her if he wanted, even though he’d probably spoken less than twenty sentences through the course of the painfully long evening. He could take her to bed, offer pleasure and accept it, and be on his way.

Dear God, how many times had he found himself in this exact situation?  How many times had he stood in a crowd at a business party, with some woman or other smiling at him and touching him and letting him know, in no uncertain terms, that she would be his in an instant? The women were always smart, and wealthy, and beautiful.  Just like this one. And everything seemed to be in perfect order tonight, as it should be.  This night was just like any other night of his life.  This meeting was just like any other business meeting he’d ever had.

Except Oliver felt like he wasn’t even in the room. 

He closed his eyes for a long minute, and then opened them to look around.   So many glittery, polished bodies, like mannequins in a storefront.  He couldn’t believe that this was what he’d tried to achieve for so long – this idea of perfection – when nothing about this situation felt remotely real to him.  This room wasn’t home. These people weren’t family. They were plastic Barbie and Ken dolls, surrounding him and chattering at him until he couldn’t hear anything else.

And all he could think of, all he wanted, was his Felicity. 

At this moment, he couldn’t believe he’d ever thought that he might have made her up, or that she might not be real.  Because here, now, surrounded by all of these fake bodies and fake smiles, Felicity was the only real thing he knew.  His little forest fairy, with her twinkling eyes and her sparkling voice and her constant challenges, was the only real thing here. 

“Hello, Oliver?” Isabel niggled him.  “Did you hear what I asked you?”

He snapped out of his head then, facing the reality before him.  And he knew he would crawl out of his skin if he had to stay here for one more second. “You know, I appreciate the offer, Isabel, but I suddenly realize that I have a previous obligation. I’ll have to ask you to excuse me,” he said, although he didn’t bother to wait for her acceptance. Oliver headed to the front door, making a beeline through the crowd until he finally pushed his way outside and felt the cold night breeze hit his face.  Stepping down the stairs off the porch, he pulled a deep breath of fresh mountain air into his lungs.

“Hey, Oliver, where are you headed?” Tommy’s voice came from behind him.

Oliver whirled around on the gravel drive to look up to his friend’s concerned eyes. “I’m sorry, Tommy, but I need to leave.”

“Why? It seemed like you and Isabel were getting pretty friendly.”

“Isabel?” Oliver repeated, honestly having trouble remembering what she looked like.

“Yeah, Isabel. Don’t you like her?”

“Oh, sure; she’s lovely, I guess. I just…I think I’ve had too much to drink for one night.”

“But that leaves two beautiful women here, and just one of me,” Tommy suggested with a giddy tone. “Not that I’m complaining. At all.”

Tommy grinned from ear to ear and Oliver’s head tilted as he regarded his friend. From the expression on Tommy’s face, Oliver got the feeling that Tommy planned to go after both women at once. And Oliver wasn’t exactly sure what to think about that.  He opened his mouth, thoroughly prepared to impart a good, healthy, brotherly lecture, when he realized a simple truth and had to force his lips shut again.

The simple truth was that Oliver couldn’t blame Tommy for wanting two women at once. Because Oliver also wanted two women. It just so happened that the two women Oliver wanted both lived in the same body.

“You know, I really need to go now,” Oliver managed to say as he backed down Cabin 13’s driveway.

“Okay, buddy. You gonna make it back to your cabin?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“So, I’ll catch you on the basketball court in the morning?”

“Yeah, see you then,” he offered as he turned and began moving back to the main road.

“Night, Oliver!” Tommy shouted after him. 

Oliver waved his hand in the air as he walked.  He strode down Cabin 13’s driveway with purpose and determination, because he knew exactly where he was going.  He was headed to Cabin 10, and to the little fairy that lived inside it.

...

A/N:  Thank you all so much for reading and for talking to me...I so love listening to your thoughts! :)Tina

Up next... Chapter 6:  To Touch or Not To Touch (really!) 


	6. To Touch or Not To Touch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there wonderful people! Thank you so much for your lovely comments on the last chapter...I so appreciate the support! I am done with part 2 of this mega-post, and I am really excited to share it with you, so here it is. I hope you had a fantastic weekend, and I thank you for sharing some of it with me :)

Oliver kept walking down the driveway, away from the Social and toward the road. When he finally stepped off the gravel and onto the pavement, he turned toward Cabin 10.  Toward _her_. He knew that he and Felicity had issues to discuss.  And he had no earthly idea if they could work anything out, but Oliver knew he had to try. Because he didn’t want to hold himself back from her anymore, and he sure as hell didn’t want to push her away.

As he moved farther down the moonlit path toward her cabin, Oliver thought about how Felicity looked yesterday, lying on the cold, hard forest floor with the most beautiful, serene smile on her face.  He thought about how she felt beneath his fingertips, and how his entire body ached to know hers.  And he thought about how she’d admitted that she lied about squirrels and lemonade and trees, to make him fight back, to make him fight for _something_.

Oliver knew Felicity was trying to help him.  It was a weird kind of help, but maybe that was what he needed, because her lying to him actually made him want to be honest with her.  Maybe she’d meant for that to happen.  Maybe it was some voodoo magic that she utilized, in order to make people want to confide in her.  Or maybe this was all some well-constructed, elaborate plan to open him up, and she was actually the deliciously evil mastermind of Blissful Blue Retreat.

Except he knew that couldn’t be true.  Because Felicity wasn’t evil. And as brilliant as she obviously was, at times she was also innocent and unsure and…vulnerable.

 _Vulnerable_.

That’s what he wanted from her. He wanted vulnerability. And he’d pushed her away yesterday, because he thought she wasn’t giving it to him.  Except now, looking back on it all, he could see how wrong he was.

Hadn’t she already revealed a million weaknesses to him?   She’d told him how she hadn’t been touched in forever, and showed him how desperately she wanted his touch.  She’d looked up into him with panicked eyes and trembling lips and admitted that she’d challenged him with her lies because she feared that he’d given up on life. She’d babbled with such nervousness while talking about condoms that he could feel the anxiety reaching out of her body and into his own.  And she’d shown him the two sides of herself:  the frolicking, frivolous side and the solemnly serious side. He didn’t know if she actually meant to reveal those separate parts of herself, but did it really matter?

_God, she practically cut herself open in front of me yesterday. She basically bled out on that forest floor, right there in front of my eyes, and I had the gall to think that she wasn’t being vulnerable.  Do I really need her to say the words?  Yes, she lied to me about being a patient.  But didn’t I lie about the exact same thing?  I didn’t come here on a dare; I came because I need help with my life. Maybe not as much help as Felicity apparently needs, but I still need it.  I asked Digg for help and Digg told me to come here and that’s why I’m here. And I lied to everyone about it, and then sat there in the forest and called Felicity a liar for not telling me the complete truth._

Oliver stopped walking, his heart beating so hard in his chest that he thought it would tear its way out. He needed to tell her all of this. He needed to lay himself out in front of her, to be real and honest with her, and then just pray to God that she would listen, and understand.  And then maybe they could reach some sort of compromise. 

He desperately needed that to happen, because he needed her.  For these few days on vacation, for this brief moment of time in his life, Oliver desperately needed Felicity with him.  Because he knew there was no fucking way that he could get through any of this without her.

With trembling hands, Oliver began walking again.  The alcohol still ran through his veins, and he walked faster to push it out, so he could focus on getting to her.  He wanted his head clear now. He wanted to know exactly what he was saying when she opened the door to him, when she allowed him entry into her world once again.  Oliver needed to be inside that world of hers right now.  He _needed_ it.

But what did Felicity need?

He shook his head as he walked, afraid of not being able to give her what she needed – of not being able to help her the way she helped him.  He probably couldn’t give her any sage advice.  He probably couldn’t help her solve the problems in her life. He probably couldn’t do much of anything for her.  But he could do one thing.

He could touch her.

Touch was one of the things she needed.  His touch. He could give her that much. He wouldn’t even pretend to deny that he _wanted_ to give her that. He wanted to wrap her in his arms, to feel her sweet, soft skin against him, to kiss her everywhere, to hear his name on her lips as he made her come harder than she ever had in her life.

Oliver felt fairly certain that he could give her that.  Not just because of his extensive history with women, but because of the sexual innocence he saw in her.  She said she’d had lovers before, but he could sense that she’d never really let herself go. Her own touches were too innocent, her hesitance too genuine, to be the actions of a sexually seasoned woman.

Felicity may be relatively inexperienced, but she definitely wanted him; he had no question of that. And he knew he could satisfy her physically.  After all, he’d never lacked skill when taking a lover.  What he’d lacked, with every woman before now, was the desire to be inside her…not just physically, but in every possible way.  Oliver wanted inside of Felicity.  He wanted all of her.  Frantically. Painfully.  Frighteningly.

When his foot finally hit the entrance of her driveway, Oliver’s pulse sputtered. The alcohol was nearly gone, and his nerves were completely fried.  It had been almost a day and a half since he’d last seen her, and right now 36 hours felt like a goddamn eternity.

Oliver stared straight ahead as he bounded down the gravel path, waiting for her cabin to come into view. When he finally saw a dim light glowing from her window, he felt his body ease.  She was here.  She was inside, in that light.  He was so close.

A smile spread his lips as he approached the porch, because he knew that any second now her door would open to him.  She would hear the sound of the gravel alarm system beneath his feet and she would open the door and grab his hand and pull him inside and grin up at him as she bounced on the balls of her tiny bare feet.  Oliver needed that. He needed to see her. He needed to touch her.

But, as he came to the end of the gravel and arrived at the steps to her cabin, nothing happened. The door didn’t open. Oliver paused for a moment, looking at the steps as if he wasn’t sure he should use them.  But then he did.  He walked up onto her porch, stomping his feet loudly against the wood slats as he did. Then he stood, staring at her closed door. And still, nothing happened.

Reaching his hand out tentatively, Oliver knocked once. 

He waited again, in silence. He waited a while.

When she still didn’t come, he moved closer and knocked again. 

“Felicity?” he called. “It’s me, Oliver.”

Nothing. He heard nothing. Even though he was almost positive that she stood behind this door.  He swore he could feel her warm body on the other side of the thick wood.

He knocked again. “Fe-li-ci-ty.  Open the door.  Please.”

He held his breath this time, determined to hear her.  But he heard nothing but the hooting of an owl and the wind breezing through the trees, and he realized that she wasn’t going to let him in. Oliver leaned forward, resting his head against the hard slab of wood, his shoulders sagging. He reached out, running his fingers across the imperfections in the logs, and sighed.

He knew what was happening right now.  He knew why the door wouldn’t open, because he knew who stood on the other side.  Solemnly Sedate Felicity stood there, and she wouldn’t let him in. She was far too practical for that.

God, what did he expect? He was the one who’d brought her out, after all.  Yesterday in the forest, when he’d called Felicity a liar and demanded complete honesty from her, he’d pulled this serious, sober person right out of his little forest fairy’s body. Apparently, she hadn’t left.

Oliver shook his head back and forth against the cold, hard wood and took a deep breath. He needed to get inside. Unfortunately, he knew the strong, stable woman standing on the other side of these logs wouldn’t open the damn door.

But maybe the other woman would. 

What was her name? He knew her name. She’d told him her name the night they’d played Twister.  It was Megan…something. “Meganson,” he whispered.

Oliver bunched his hand into a fist and banged it against the wood, cringing as the sound reverberated through his forehead.  “ _Meganson_ ,” he repeated, louder this time. “Please let me in.”

There was another long moment of silence.  And then, finally, the lock on the door clicked.  Oliver straightened back to standing, holding his breath as he stared at the dark wood. A moment later, the door creaked open just slightly.

She wasn’t standing there, but she’d opened it enough to let him know that it was okay to step inside, and Oliver didn’t hesitate.  He pushed through the doorway, his eyes searching the dimly lit cabin until he saw her.  Felicity stood in the living room, with her back turned to him, while she pulled on a robe and fastened the tie around her waist.  Damn, he hadn’t even considered how late it was.

“I’m sorry…were you trying to sleep?” he questioned as he closed the door behind him and took a step toward her. 

She turned around then, facing him while tightening the belt against her stomach.  Oliver’s eyes dropped to her hands, watching her fingers fumble with the ends of the silky tie.  Her robe was hunter green satin, and from what he could tell by the deep V of the opening, she wore a matching satin nightgown beneath it.  Neither piece of clothing came past her mid-thigh, and his gaze trailed down the length of her bare legs and onto her little purple-painted toenails.

“I wasn’t asleep yet,” she offered, the beautiful sound of her voice causing him to refocus on her face. “I was just having a glass of wine before bed.”

“Oh,” he said, giving her a gentle smile before he glanced toward the dim light coming from the kitchen. She’d set a few candles on the counter, and they were already burning down.  There was an open bottle of red wine, and a half-full glass, next to the flickering lights.  And then there was the little red-and-green leaf, that tiny culprit Oliver had wanted to pull from her hair yesterday, sitting proudly a few inches away.  He looked at it for a moment before turning his eyes back to hers.

Solemnly Sedate Felicity observed him cautiously, and he could see the concern written on her face. He probably looked like hell. He probably looked worn and beaten, after the last 36 hours.  But Oliver could tell that she hadn’t faired much better.  Not that she wasn’t beautiful.  No, she was more gorgeous than ever, with her loose blond curls hanging around her shoulders and the satin green fabric skimming over her skin. But her eyes looked tired, and sad, and he wanted nothing more than to take all of that away.

“You okay, Oliver?” she asked as she studied him.

“Kind of,” he replied as honestly as possible.  “You?”

Felicity shrugged her shoulders.  “Kind of,” she offered, shuffling her bare feet against the log floor.  “So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit tonight?”

“I…I was at the Social.” _And all I could think of was being inside you._

“Really? I imagine you met all sorts of interesting people there.”

“I suppose.”

“Lots of beautiful women, I’m sure,” she said, squeezing her hands together in front of her. “It seems like this place is a haven for supermodels sometimes.”

Oliver shook his head. “None of them could hold a candle to you.”

She gave him a tiny smile. “Thank you for that. But still, there are some really good people up here on this mountain.  Some wonderful people, even.  You should spend time with them, and give them a chance to…”

“I don’t care about those people right now, Felicity,” he insisted, the tone of his voice allowing no room for debate.  “Right now, the only person I care about is you.  The only person I want to be with is you.” 

Oliver watched as her eyes widened with his words, and as the long column of her throat shifted with a hard swallow.  He saw her dainty fingers tremble while fidgeting with the satiny ties of her robe, and he chuckled. “I know what you’re thinking, but I didn’t come here for sex,” he assured.  Then he shook his head and amended the statement.  “Well, I didn’t come here _just_ for sex.” 

He could hear her little gasp, even at this distance, but he didn’t remove his gaze from hers. He needed her here with him, talking with him.  He needed them to work all of this out. Because, sooner or later, he was going to walk across this floor, and take her in his arms, and crush her body up against his, and kiss the hell out of her, and then press his face into her hair and just breathe her in.  And he needed her consent to do all of that.

The thought of filling his lungs with Felicity’s scent made him hate the heavy perfumed odor that still clung to his jacket.  So he reached up to the lapels of the coat, shrugged the material off of his shoulders, and laid the jacket across the back of the couch.  Then he turned back to his little bird and took another step toward her.

Felicity took a step back. 

“Have you been drinking tonight, Oliver?”

He nodded as he watched her.  “I have. But the alcohol has pretty much worn off. You can trust me on that.”

“I do trust you. I just want to make sure that you know what you’re saying right now, and what you’re doing.  Because I don’t want you to regret anything.”

“I’m not drunk, Felicity. And I want to be here. God, believe me when I say that I desperately want to be here.”

Felicity stared at him for a long minute before shaking her head.  “Well, your alcohol may have worn off, but I feel like I need some. If you don’t mind.”

Oliver motioned his hand toward the kitchen counter.  “Help yourself.”

She took her eyes off of him for the first time since he’d arrived, keeping her distance as she maneuvered around the far end of the couch to make her way into the kitchen. When she arrived at the counter she leaned heavily against it, her satin-covered belly resting against the wood. Then she grabbed the stem of her glass and took a long drink before setting it back down.  “Would you like some wine?”

He shook his head. “No.  Honestly, I don’t like the feeling of alcohol.”

She nodded. “I didn’t think you would. Too uncontrolled, right?”

He couldn’t help smiling. “Yup.  That’s exactly right,” he agreed, knowing how many times in the past few days she’d tried to get him to admit to just that. He didn’t see any reason to hide it now. “I like being in control, Felicity.”

“I know, Oliver.”

She stood very still, just watching him, as the candlelight played with her hair and licked her skin, just like he wanted to.  And it was all he could do to stand here, with the desire to have her in his arms, to possess her in every way, burning through his veins and threatening to render him senseless. But he couldn’t succumb to that now. Not yet.  Not until they’d cleared the air.  “You and I, we need to talk.” 

“About what?”

“About you lying to me.”

Her shoulders sagged, and her fingers fiddled with the stem of her glass.  “I thought we settled this in the woods yesterday.”

“I thought we did, too. But then I spent 36 hours away from you, and I honestly felt like I was going to go crazy.”

Felicity reached her hand out to him, but then stopped herself and settled her palm against the countertop. “What happened, Oliver?”

The concern in her voice soothed him.  “Nothing, really, I guess. But all I’ve done, since the minute you walked away from me yesterday morning, is think. And I’ve come to several realizations.”

Her fingers curled into the wood as she watched him.  “What kind of realizations?”

“Well, for one, I realized that I don’t care about the lies you’ve told me before now.”

Her jaw nearly unhinged as she looked at him.  She stared for a long minute, and then shook her head.  “No, Oliver.  You _do_ care, and I understand that.  It was wrong of me to lie to you.  I’m not even trying to make excuses, I just…”

“Felicity,” he cut off her words, waiting patiently until she pressed her lips together and refocused on him.  “I honestly don’t care about any lie you’ve told me _before now_.”

“Before now?”

“That’s right. I know I pressed you unfairly in the woods yesterday.  I pushed for you to tell me the truth about everything, and I realize now that it was a shitty thing to do, because no one tells the truth about _everything_. I just…I wanted to know you. I wanted you to tell me why you came here to Blue.  I wanted you to confide in me. But the thing is, it doesn’t matter why you chose to come here.  No matter what your reason, I think it’s brave that you came to get help, and I think it’s brave that you accept the need for therapy with open arms.”

Oliver paused to watch her. He watched the sadness move through her eyes, he watched the tremble of her lips, he watched her fingers twist into the countertop.  And then a new fear overtook him:  the fear of doing more harm than good.  “I…I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, his voice coming out raw and strained.  “I don’t know why you came here, and I don’t know what problems exist in your life that made you look to therapy for help, but I do know that hurting you is the last thing in the world I want to do. So, if my actions are in any way detrimental to you, then just tell me and I will leave.”

Felicity gave him a tremulous smile.  “Oh, Oliver…you aren’t hurting me.  Not at all. Quite the opposite, actually.”

It was his turn to smile. “I’m really glad to hear that. I want to be as helpful to you as I can be, Felicity, because you’ve helped me so much already.  Just seeing how brave you are, and how you embrace this place with your utter joy…it amazes me.  Because I wasn’t brave at all; I wasn’t able to admit to anyone that I came here for help.”

Her fingers spread out against the wood.  “Are you telling me that you didn’t come here on a dare, Oliver?”

He looked down to her fingers, and wished his hand was beneath hers.  “No, I didn’t come here on a dare.  I lied and told you that I did, because I couldn’t even admit to _myself_ that I needed help.  And I thought I was going to hate this place. I thought I was going to hate everything about it.  But then you found me, and everything changed.  My whole world changed.” He started walking toward her, just putting one foot in front of the other.  “I love your company, Felicity.  I love hearing your voice.  I love listening to your thoughts.  I love it when you touch me.  And God, I love touching you. But I don’t expect you to tell me why you came here to Blue…not if you don’t want to.  I just want the chance to be with you – to keep watching you and listening to you and learning from you – for the rest of the time that we’re up here on this mountain.  Because I honestly can’t imagine making it through this vacation without you.”

Oliver stopped walking when he reached the other side of the counter, and he looked across the smooth wood surface to where she stood.  Her breaths came in short, staccato movements to her lungs, and he focused in on her eyes as he continued.  “I just need to ask you for one thing.  Just one small favor, before we go any further.”

“Wh-what favor is that?”

He pinned her intent gaze with his own.  “I want you to stop lying to me, as of now.  From this point forward, I want to know that every word coming out of your ungodly gorgeous mouth is the truth.”

Felicity reached up to touch her lips, her fingers trembling against her skin.  “But, I just…I’ve already told you so many lies, Oliver.”

“I don’t care about that. What I do care about is knowing for certain that you aren’t lying to me anymore.”

“But what if we’re having a conversation and you ask me something that I don’t want to answer?”

“Then don’t answer. Tell me you won’t answer. I’ll accept that. Just don’t lie to me about it. Please.”  She whimpered with his request, and Oliver rested his hands against the cool countertop, voraciously aware that just a few feet separated her body from his.  “You know, you told me yesterday, when you stood in my driveway, that I am your friend.”

“You are my friend, Oliver. At least, I feel like you are.”

“Good. Because I feel like you’re my friend, too, and I want that.  I want to be your friend.  Of course, I want to be your lover, also.  But right now, I just need to know that we can reach this compromise together. I need your promise that every word you say to me, from this moment forward, is the truth.  Can you give me that much, Felicity?  Can you promise me that?”

He held his breath as he waited for her response, held his breath until he thought he would pass out cold, right here on this counter.  But then he saw her smile.  Felicity smiled and said, “Okay, Oliver.  I promise,” and the air came back to his lungs.

His body sagged against the countertop for a moment.  He hadn’t even been aware of how much stress he held in his muscles until the second she freed him with her assurance of honesty.  As far as Oliver was concerned, Felicity had just removed any and all barriers. As far as he was concerned, nothing prevented him from being with her now, in any way he desired.

Her honesty liberated him, and Oliver wanted to say that he felt like his old self again, but that wasn’t true.  Because this was better than his old self.  This was his _new_ self, the one that could be here with his forest fairy, without restriction or reservation. He liked being this person. God, he loved being this person.

Oliver looked into Felicity’s eyes.  He knew he wore a ridiculously goofy grin on his face, and yet she still looked as solemn and concerned as when he’d first stepped inside this cabin tonight. He didn’t want that for her. He wanted her to feel as free and unrestricted as he did.  He wanted her to be as excited about the potential of their relationship as he was. Because even though Felicity hadn’t agreed to anything more than honest friendship, Oliver knew that was a start. Now he just had to see where that start could lead.

Straightening to his full height, he began moving around the countertop.  Felicity’s eyes remained glued to his as he walked toward her, careful but determined.  She gripped the edge of the wood beneath her fingertips and Oliver glanced down. The height of the countertop came just to his waist.  It was the perfect level to sit her on, so he could fuck her.  Hard and wild. 

But he wouldn’t do that tonight. No, tonight he would definitely make love to her in a bed.  He would lay her down in the red sheets – he imagined the sheets would be red, because he could picture himself making love to her in red sheets, and also because everything up here was either red or green, which was kind of ironic, considering this was Blissful Blue – and he would treasure every second he had inside her. Although, at some point before they left this mountain, he would have to fuck her here on this countertop. That was just a given.

Oliver watched her fingers gripping tighter and tighter to the edge of the wood as he wound his way toward her and, by the time he arrived at her back, her knuckles were blanched white. He stood behind her for a long minute, just trying to regulate his breathing, as the scent he’d been aching for – her fresh soap and tiny flowers – filled his mind.  He wanted that fragrance all over him, and the thought of it had him swiftly hardening in response.

He stared down to her shoulders, which moved unsteadily up and down beneath her robe. He wanted to touch the silky green material, to see if it felt as soft as it looked, and since he’d already decided that nothing should keep him away from her anymore, he did as he desired. Reaching out, Oliver rested his hands against her shoulders.  The moment he touched her, Felicity took a shuddering breath in.  He smiled to himself, aware of how responsive her body was to his. And as his erection swelled and thickened, he had no doubt of how his body responded to hers.

Oliver smoothed his palms down her arms, from her shoulders all the way to her wrists. Then he covered her hands with his own, sliding across them again and again until she finally released her fierce grip on the countertop.  The moment she did, he threaded their fingers together and rested his chin against her shoulder as he pressed his cheek to her hair.  “So, now that we’re friends, Felicity, I think we should talk about becoming lovers.”  Her fingers tightened inside his, and he smiled and continued.  “I would just like to take this opportunity to say that I think it’s a fantastic idea.  Best idea I can think of in the whole world, right at the moment.  So, if you still want to talk about it, I’m all for it.”

She made a little choking sound and held tighter to his hands.  “It’s…it’s probably not a good idea, Oliver.”

“No? Why not? Because I’m pretty sure we decided in the woods yesterday that this would be safe sex.”

“No, what we decided was that we didn’t need to use condoms.”

Oliver chuckled with her words, because he understood what she meant.  Because nothing about this felt safe at all. Because touching her felt downright fucking dangerous.

But even with the alarm bells ringing diligently in his brain, Oliver couldn’t bring himself to care. He straightened behind her, unthreading his fingers from hers in order to drag them back up the sleeves of her robe and onto her shoulders again.  She breathed short and shallow beneath his hands, and he dropped his forehead into her hair and closed his eyes. 

“I like being your friend,” he whispered into her gold curls.

Felicity shifted her bare feet against the floor.  “I like being your friend, too, Oliver.”

“Good,” he replied, his hands massaging across the satin that hung on her shoulders, working their way closer and closer toward her neck.  “But I’m not going to lie to you.  I want to be more than your friend.  I just want… _more_.”  His fingers found the edge of her robe, and curled beneath the fabric, pulling it gently across her skin until it came to the ends of her shoulders.  He brought his face back beside hers, resting his stubbly cheek against her soft one. “I’m going to take your robe off now, so I can touch more of you,” he informed her.  “But you can stop me, if you honestly want to.”

He waited for a moment, holding his breath to see if she would protest.  But she didn’t, and so he pulled the silky green fabric down her arms. Felicity allowed her hands to fall to her sides, to let the material slip off the tips of her fingers, and Oliver reached both of his hands to her waist, threading into the knot at the front of her robe in order to untie it.  When he’d finished pulling the ties from her waist, the fabric pooled at their feet.

He flattened both palms against the soft slip that still covered her belly and pulled her against his body. He was already hard as a rock, and his prominent erection pressed into one soft cheek of her ass. Felicity groaned with sensation, and then grabbed onto the countertop again, clinging ferociously to the wood.

Oliver smoothed his hands across her tiny waist, and then down to the tops of her thighs. This little slip of a nightgown was even shorter than the robe had been, and it barely covered her panties. Oliver wanted to know what kind she wore, so he moved his fingers from the front of her thighs slowly across to the outer side of her legs, and then up further, inch by inch, raising the little slip up until it rested at her hipbones. 

Felicity whimpered when he ran his hands over the tiny straps of her panties, drawing his fingers across her waist until they met at the center of her rounded belly.  Her bellybutton lay beneath his fingertips and he traced the edge of it as he explored the soft, silky front of what he now knew were thongs. They needed to come off soon. Just as soon as she agreed to be more than friends.

Oliver allowed himself to slip his pinkie finger beneath the edge of her underwear, and Felicity mewled and leaned farther back against him, which caused his aching length to jut harder into her.  He was terribly, horribly aware of the fact that her thong panties left her ass cheeks bare, and that his pants’ button and zipper were the only things separating them at this point. Oliver groaned with that knowledge and dropped his head onto her shoulder.  Her skin was there, just beneath his lips, so he pressed his mouth to it.

Oliver kissed her shoulder, and licked it, and nipped at it, and Felicity shifted against him, instinctively rubbing her backside up and down his stiffness as his little finger wandered even further below the scrap of fabric that was her underwear.

“Uh…Ol-Oliver,” she panted when his finger reached a bit too far down, and he forced himself to withdraw. He pulled his hands out from under her satiny clothes and placed them back on her shoulders.  He told himself this was safer for now, to touch her arms and only her arms, but in reality it didn’t matter which part of her he touched because it was all warmth and softness and delight – it was all _her_ , and he wanted all of it.

His desire for her overwhelmed him, almost painfully, and Oliver wasn’t sure if he’d ever felt anything quite like it. He couldn’t understand what made this pull to her so strong.  Was it just that neither of them had been touched in so long?  Was that all this was – just two lonely people looking for someone to touch? Or was this a simple chemical reaction happening inside his body?  Was it both? Or was it something more?

He honestly didn’t know. He was only sure of one thing: touching her was heaven. Truly unearthly. And, right at this moment, he couldn’t imagine stopping.  But he would have to, if that was what she wanted.

_God, that isn’t what she wants, is it?_

“Come here, Felicity,” he demanded, the grasp on his control waning fast.  He held tight to her arms and pulled her away from the counter, turning her body around so that he could look into her eyes.  The moment she stood before him, chest-to-chest and eye-to-eye, he grabbed hold of her shoulders and grounded her.  “I need you to tell me what you want.  Do you want to just be friends?  Because I can do that.  I can stop touching you, if that’s what you want.  I can spend the rest of this vacation seeing you every day, and talking to you every day, and enjoying every minute I get to spend as your friend. And I’ll love every bit of it, even though my entire body will ache with the need to touch you.”

Tears sprang to the corners of her eyes.  “Oliver, y-you can’t say things like that to me.”

“Why not?”

“Because that… _that_ hurts.”

He sighed, his shoulders falling.  “It doesn’t have to. But I’ll do whatever you want. If you don’t want me to touch you anymore, just tell me, and I’ll stop.”

She held his gaze for a long minute and then shook her head.  “I can’t tell you that.”

“Why not?”

“Because. I just promised to be honest with you, and if I said I didn’t want your touches it would be such an incredibly preposterous lie.”

Oliver couldn’t help smiling with that admission.  He drew both his hands down her arms, and Felicity moaned.  The sound sent an acute awareness through his entire body. “You like it when I touch you. Don’t you, Felicity?”

“God, yes.”

“But it’s not just therapeutic touch, is it?  There’s something electrical beneath my skin when I feel you.”

“Mine, too.”

“You told me what this attraction was the night we played Twister.  You said it was just a simple chemical reaction that takes place in the human body.”

Felicity looked up at him, her eyelids now at half-mast.  “That is what I said, isn’t it?”

Oliver moved one hand to her cheek, smoothing his fingers across her skin.  “Do you still believe that?  Because this doesn’t feel like a simple thing to me.”

She shook her head slowly, her eyes never leaving his.  “No, it doesn’t feel simple at all.”

He nodded as he ran his thumb across the edge of her lower lip.  “Is this still the worst idea ever, then?  To act on this attraction?”

“Probably.”

“Why? Why would it be so bad?”

“Because this…this place, everything up here, everything between you and me…is unusual, Oliver. It’s not reality.”

He heard her words, but as he continued to smooth his thumb slowly and softly across her skin, he couldn’t agree with them.  “I don’t know; this feels pretty goddamn real to me.  And I understand what you’re trying to say, but you also said yesterday in the woods that we’re both adults and we’re both on vacation. And I think we can agree that vacation is time off from reality.  Much-needed time off from reality.  When you’re on vacation, you do things you normally wouldn’t do.”

She swallowed, the movement causing her lip to shift against his thumb, and he reached his other hand to her waist, curling his fingers into her hip.  She hummed with the sensation, her words coming out in a hoarse whisper. “Sometimes you make really bad decisions on vacation.  And then, when you go back to reality, you regret those decisions.” 

“Sometimes you regret them. Sometimes you don’t.” He pulled her forward, bringing her entire body against his.  He bent down, skimming his lips across her cheek before pressing the side of his nose to hers. “Which do you think this will be, Felicity?”

She whimpered against his mouth.  “Dear Lord, I have no earthly idea right now.”

“Neither do I. But I’m willing to find out. Are you?”

He waited a second, feeling every breath that left her body and every one that entered his own. He waited for her consent, knowing he would have to step away if she said no.  He waited, and his heart came to a near stop while he did.

Then Felicity sighed and wrapped her arms around his neck.  “Yes, Oliver. I’m willing.”

All the air left his lungs on a rush and he grabbed her face in both hands, grounding her to him as he raised his head to look into her eyes.  “Are you sure?” he asked, his fingers shifting over her skin, lingering on the softness. He allowed her the time to respond to him.  Because he needed to know that she meant what she said.  He needed her to be happy and without regret.  He needed her to leave this serious and solemn side of her behind, just for a while, and allow the free little bird to come play with him, here and now.

After forever passed, Felicity finally gazed into his eyes and nodded.  “I’m sure.”

The moment he heard the words, Oliver’s face broke into a silly grin.  “Oh, well, thank goodness for that,” he teased.

His Felicity smiled then. _Really_ smiled, for the first time tonight.  It was joyous and bubbly, and he laughed when he saw it. He moved his hands to her hair, running his fingertips through the loose curls, and then down onto her shoulders. He watched her tilt her chin up and sigh with the sensation, as if she were feeling the sunshine on her face for the first time in forever.  And then, an instant later, she moved her hand to his chest, her fingers coming to rest right over his heart.  “I’m so happy you’re here with me, Oliver,” she sang.

Oliver’s smile became almost painful then, because he knew he had her back – his frolicking freebird. “I’m happy I’m here with you too, Felicity.”

He watched her eyes sparkle as she reached up to wind her fingers into his hair, and Oliver moved his hands to her back, flattening his palms against her spine to pull her further against him.  His heart pounded in his chest while he looked down at his little forest fairy, because just now, right this second, he finally, _finally_ , felt like he had the right to kiss her. 

So he did.

The first touch of his lips to hers created an explosion of sensation, a pulsing electricity that coursed straight through his body.  He pressed his mouth to hers, hard and strong, despite the quaking current. When he pulled back, just slightly, and only after long moments of savoring the softness of her lips, he worked to catch his breath.  Felicity trembled and gasped against him, curling her fingers into the collar of his shirt. Then she whimpered and Oliver wrapped his hands tighter around her back.  He wanted more of her.  He wanted so much more.  So he took it.

The second kiss blended seamlessly into the third, and then the fourth and the fifth. He lost count at some point, lost track of everything except the soft heat of her skin and the smooth wetness of her tongue and the perfect sounds of her little moans. Her fingers clung to the fabric of his shirt as his hands moved restlessly up and down her satin-covered spine, but his mouth never left hers. 

He kissed her every possible way he could think of. 

Softly. Aggressively.  Sweetly.  Hungrily. Lovingly.  Desperately.  Leisurely. Urgently.

He tasted her tongue over and over, tangling it into his own, learning the rhythm of her movements and the pattern her responses.  He nibbled against her lip, as he’d seen her do so many times, pulling the soft skin into his mouth for a moment before letting it go to start back in on another kiss. One time he pushed so hard into her that their teeth clashed, and then he smiled against her lips as she giggled. He did everything he wanted to do, everything he’d been wanting to do since the moment she first stepped out of the woods by the side of the road, and it felt amazing and unbelievable and so very, very freeing. 

When he finally pulled back, after long minutes or hours or possibly days, he looked down to her face and watched a slow grin pull up the corners of her mouth.  Her lips were dark pink and just a little swollen and it was all he could do not to devour them again.  Felicity kept her eyes closed for a long time, and he felt her body sway against his, her fingers clinging ferociously to his shirt.  And then Oliver grinned too, because he knew she’d probably collapse if he took a step away from her. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” he assured her.  He knew the words sunk in as soon as her fists uncurled from his collar and her body leaned forward onto his.  She sighed heavily, her muscles relaxing when she let him take her weight into his arms. Oliver wrapped her up tighter, banding her to him, attempting to accustom himself to feel of her soft breasts pushed into the hardness of his chest.  He wasn’t sure if he would ever get used to that sensation, but he sure as hell wanted to give it a try.

Felicity let her face fall into his shoulder, snuggling her forehead into his neck.  Her hands moved down, until her fingers could play with buttons of his shirt.  “My goodness, you’re good at that,” she breathed, the warm air of her hushed words brushing against his skin and raising goose bumps on his arms. 

Oliver chuckled, because he couldn’t remember the last time that happened…he was thirty-four years old; he wasn’t supposed to get goose bumps anymore.  “What exactly is it that I’m good at, Felicity?”

“Oh my God, everything.”

His hand traced up her spine and then pushed into her hair, to hold her closer to his chest. “Did you have a particular favorite kiss?” he wondered aloud, because he was intent to repeat whatever she liked the most.

She pulled at one of his buttons. “Um…all of them?”

He smiled. Of course she would be easy to please. No matter the number of lovers she’d had in her life, his little forest fairy still had a sexual innocence about her that made him feel predatory and protective, all at the same time. Oliver didn’t know how the coexistence of those two emotions was even possible.  All he knew was that part of him wanted to shelter her, and only make love to her in the dark, cocooned inside warm sheets, in hushed, soft perfection.  And the other part of him wanted to teach her everything he knew, wanted to fuck her on every surface of this cabin and in every possible way, so that she would understand every imaginable sensation he could give her, and then she could tell him exactly how and where she wanted his mouth and his tongue and his fingers and his body.

The thought of all the ways he could have her made Oliver’s aching erection twitch into the softness of her belly, and Felicity moaned against his neck, causing the goose bumps to crawl higher up his arms.  “What do you want to do right now?” he asked, not because he couldn’t think of anything he wanted to do, but because he could think of _everything_ he wanted to do, and the limitlessness of his imagination made it difficult to decide.

“Hmm…can I, um, can I get this shirt off of you?” she asked with a little quiver in her voice. She lifted her head as she spoke, looking up to him.  Her eyes twinkled with giddiness and joy and Oliver moved both hands to her face, cupping her cheeks and absorbing the excitement written in her sky blue. He made his decision then.

_I’m going to make love to her tonight, gentle and soft and sweet. Everything else can wait. At least until tomorrow._

“Of course you can take off my shirt, Felicity.  Would you like my help?”

She shook her head. “Nope.  Uh-uh.  Want to do this myself,” she announced with a smile.  Then she refocused, her gaze drifting to his chest as she started in on her task. She took her time with each and every button, being careful and considerate with the expensive material as she moved slowly from his collar all the way down to his abdomen.  When she reached the waist of his pants, she stilled and swallowed, her eyes focused below his shirt.

Oliver knew what she saw. _Sorry about the ridiculously massive erection_ , he thought, but didn’t say it out loud, mostly because it would have been a lie.  He wasn’t sorry at all.  “Everything okay?” he offered instead, observing her as she dragged her eyes back up to his. 

“Um, yup,” she replied, licking her lips. “I’m just gonna, uh, take this shirt off now, but I have to, you know, pull it up out of your pants for that, so…”

He smiled. “Do what you want to do, Felicity. I’m certainly not going to stop you.”

“’Kay,” she agreed, keeping her focus on him as her fingers curled into the material above his waist and pulled up. 

The sensation of the soft fabric moving over his stiff length caused his breath to catch in his throat.

“Sorry,” she offered.

“God, don’t be sorry.”

Felicity grinned with his reassurance.  Then she looked down, to where her fingers rested against his stomach.  Slowly and surely, she watched her hands move upward, tracing over the seam of the unbuttoned, but still mostly closed, shirt. Her tentative fingers finally eased beneath the fabric and then smoothed it up his bare chest and over his shoulders, before pulling it down his arms.  She’d forgotten to unbutton his sleeves, and the material caught on his wrists, effectively pinning his arms in place at his sides.

Oliver thought she would realize her mistake now and set about freeing his hands, but she just stood in place, staring at his chest.  He wasn’t sure if she even breathed, but then she made a little whimpering sound and he knew she was getting _some_ air, at least. “Felicity?  Everything okay?”

“Good golly, Oliver, you’re…” She motioned to his chest with her fingers, over and over again.  “You’re really quite, um, _intimidating_.”

His brow arched. “Intimidating?”

Felicity’s eyes darted back to his.  “Oh, I didn’t mean that in a, ‘Grr, I’m a big man who is going to be all growly with you,’ kind of way. I meant it in a, ‘Holy crap, every one of your muscles looks like it’s been cut by steel and I’m completely intimated to be naked in front of you,’ kind of way.”

Oliver laughed, hard, his entire body shaking as he watched her smile in response. When he managed to take control of his chuckles, he met her playful gaze with his own.  “You’re gorgeous, you know.  Every inch of you is gorgeous.”

“But you haven’t even seen every inch of me.”

“No, but I intend to,” he promised, watching as her eyes widened in response.  “I intend to touch every inch, and taste every inch. And I already know I’m going to love every single tiny piece of you.”

She bit into her lip as she looked up at him, and Oliver pulled against the constraint of his sleeves. “Dear God, please get this shirt off of me.  I need to use my hands right now.”

“Oh,” she said, as if she just realized that she’d left him helpless to touch her. She looked down to the shirt he’d fisted in his hands and smiled.  “Guess I should help with that.”

“I would appreciate it,” he growled through clenched teeth.

Her fingers moved back to his arms, working to find the opening of his sleeve.  She’d pulled the fabric down so far that it hung to the ground, and she had to fish and fumble with it to even find his skin. When she did, she struggled with the tiny double buttons at his wrist, her eyes focused completely on her task as she made curious little noises of consternation. 

Oliver watched her tongue move over her lips, licking against them while she concentrated on her task. He stared at the wet trail she’d left on her mouth and he nearly popped open his zipper from the strain of his erection.  “Please hurry, Felicity. I need to touch you.”

“Saying that is really not helping me.  Where in the heck was this shirt made?  A magician’s workshop? I feel like I need a special degree to get these buttons undone.”

“Here, just…let me do it,” he insisted, his patience long gone.  He stepped back to try to reach one hand across to the other in front of him, but the material wouldn’t budge and after about thirty seconds he just gave up and yanked his arms out hard, ripping the fabric across both wrists before shoving the tenacious material to the floor.  When he looked back to Felicity, her mouth gaped.

“Oh my God, Oliver! You just tore it! How much did that shirt even cost?”

“I don’t know, probably a couple hundred dollars.  I don’t really give a damn right now.”

“Well, you should! Although you can probably have it repaired.  I know a good tailor in the town at the bottom of the mountain who…”

He shut her up with his mouth. Stepping back up to her body, he wound his tongue with hers, pressing her into the ridge of the countertop as he pushed himself onto her.  The feel of her silky satin slip against his bare chest made him growl with want and desire and crazy fucking _need_ and he reached his hands down, grabbing both cheeks of her ass, palms flush to her soft, exposed skin. His fingers curled greedily into her supple flesh and she groaned into his mouth as her hands roamed wildly over his bare back. 

Oliver kneaded the flesh of her ass while his fingers wandered closer and closer to the soft seam in the center.  Eventually, he felt the edge of her thong panties against his fingertips.  He knew that little flimsy piece of fabric was the only thing keeping him from touching her properly, and in that moment he hated her underwear. So he reached up to each side of her waist, and threaded his fingers around the dainty little straps against her hips, and pulled. 

The material snapped easily, and dropped to the floor, and Felicity gasped beside his ear. “I’m sorry,” he offered, returning his hands to the perfect flesh of her ass.  “I didn’t mean to tear them off.” 

“It’s…it’s okay,” she breathed against his skin, her fingers trembling as they curled into the back of his neck. 

Oliver smiled with her acceptance and pulled her farther against him, burying his face into her gold curls and breathing in.  He loved the fact that he could touch her freely now.  He loved that there were no more boundaries between them at this moment, that there was nothing to keep her from him.  He smiled for a second at that thought, but then his lips fell to a frown. “Damn it,” he grumbled into her hair.

Felicity pulled back, just enough to look up to his face.  “What’s wrong?”

Her blue eyes looked wide and luminous and concerned, and Oliver shook his head. “Nothing’s wrong. I just…I think our honesty agreement needs to go both ways, so I should tell you that I just lied to you.”

“You did?”

“Yes. Because I’m not sorry I ripped off your panties.  I’m not sorry at all, because I’ve wanted to do that since I saw the tiny black triangle of them under your yoga pants yesterday morning.”

“You could see my underwear through my pants yesterday?”  She grimaced. “Well gosh, that’s embarrassing. I probably shouldn’t wear those pants anymore.”

Oliver chuckled. “I think you’re missing the point, here; I didn’t tell you that to embarrass you.  I told you that because you should know that I’ve wanted to get my hands on you for what feels pretty much like forever, and now that I’ve got you here, I want to touch you everywhere.”  She made a strangled sound in the back of her throat and Oliver smiled, his fingers twitching against her bottom.  “It’s okay if I touch you wherever I want to, right?”

“God, yes,” she breathed, sinking against his chest and winding her arms tighter around his neck. “Please feel free to do whatever you like.”

It was Oliver’s turn to make a strangled sound in his throat then, because he’d never been given such an open invitation.  By anyone. Ever.  For anything.  And yet here she stood, his little forest fairy, looking up to his eyes, smiling bright as the sun, and offering him all of her.

He dropped his mouth onto hers again, pressing their lips together.  He felt her tilt her head up, felt her open to him as he slipped his tongue inside to taste her.  She was so trusting. She had so much faith in him. He wanted to deserve it. Wanted to deserve her trust. Wanted to make her feel cherished and needed and desired.  And he wanted to satisfy her, in every possible way.  He wanted to make her come so hard that she wouldn’t even remember her own name.

Oliver growled into her mouth at the thought, sucking on her tongue and biting her lip as he pressed the rigid, eager length of his erection into the softness of her belly. Adjusting his grip on her ass in order to pull her even further up onto him, he allowed his hands to roam toward the center, tracing the soft seam of her ass with his fingertips, all the way down to the juncture of her thighs.  Felicity opened her legs to his touch, parting just enough to give him the access he desired.  Then Oliver explored further, smoothing his fingers in from behind, seeking out what he hoped would be the very wet entrance to her sex.  Fuck, he wasn’t disappointed.  She was soaking – even her thighs were damp – and he couldn’t resist pressing a finger tenderly inside her, pushing all the way into her soft warmth. 

Felicity moaned and shifted beneath the gentle invasion, her satiny gown rubbing against him as she rolled her forehead onto his shoulder and then started pressing her mouth to his chest, kissing his heated flesh.  Her tongue peeked out over his collarbone, and she hummed with the sensation, her lips pulling into a smile he could feel against his skin. Oliver needed more, so he eagerly pushed a second finger inside her. 

“Mmm,” she murmured, pressing her hips down into his touch.  He pulled his fingers out a bit and then surged back in again, and then again, listening attentively to the change in her breathing as he moved inside her. Felicity continued to press open-mouthed kisses to his chest, working her way across him as Oliver drove his fingers in and out of her body from behind.  His other hand still clenched onto one ass cheek, pulling gently up to spread her further apart, so the hand inside of her could have better access, and push even deeper. His fingers were coated in her wetness now, cocooned in the tight sheath of her body, and his mind grasped at straws to maintain his composure.

Felicity mewled and panted as she continued to taste his flesh, and Oliver dropped his head into her gold curls and closed his eyes tight.  He breathed in deeply, absorbing the scent of her hair into his lungs. He wasn’t going to last much longer like this.  He needed to be inside her, now, and he knew this was the point where he was supposed to pick her up and carry her into the bedroom.  This was the moment when he was supposed to place her carefully on a plush mattress, and make soft, slow, sweet love to her, again and again, right up until morning.

But then Felicity’s mouth moved to cover his nipple, and her tongue darted out to tease, and Oliver moaned. He pulled his fingers from the heat of her body and grasped her waist with both hands.  “Damn it, I changed my mind,” he growled.

Felicity stiffened inside his arms, raising her face from his chest. “Wh-what?  You mean, you don’t want me?”

Oliver’s eyes flew to hers. “ _What?_ No!  God, _no_ , that’s not what I meant.  I want you, Felicity. You couldn’t possibly have any earthly idea of how much I want you.”

“Oh, well, thank goodness for that,” she teased him with his own words as she relaxed onto his body once again.  “But then what did you change your mind about?”

He squeezed tighter to her hips.  “Well, I thought I was going carry you into your bedroom, and lay you down on the sheets, and make love to you properly, like a gentleman.  And I have every intention of doing that, at some point before we leave this mountain. But right at this moment, I just want to fuck the hell out of you, right here on this countertop.” Oliver watched her eyes widen exponentially and he smiled.  “That okay?”

Felicity didn’t say a word. She just licked her lips, and then proceeded to nod her head so vehemently that he feared she’d cause herself whiplash.

He leaned down and pressed his mouth to hers, biting into her lip again and listening as her breath caught inside her throat.  “Good,” he whispered.

Oliver looked to the countertop, and took a moment to move the wine bottle and glass over to the left, next to the flickering candles and the little red-and-green leaf. Then he reached down, re-grabbed his two favorite handfuls of her ass, and lifted her up to set her into the freshly cleared space.  The moment he seated her on the cool wood, he stepped between her legs and raised his hands to her face, cradling her cheeks beneath his fingertips.  “How is this, Felicity?  You’re not too cold, are you?”

 _“Cold?_ ” she echoed, her brow rising as she looked into his eyes. “I’m on fire, Oliver.”

He allowed one hand to fall from her face, easing down to trace the pulse point of her throat. “You are, aren’t you?” he realized, leaning forward so his mouth could mimic the path his hand had taken, kissing from her cheek to her jaw and then all the way down to her collarbone, tasting the heat of her skin as he went.  “I love that. I love how warm you are.”

Felicity sighed, her arms draping across his back, and Oliver kissed his way to her shoulder, licking and sucking while he explored.  But then he reached the tiny green strap of her slip and he frowned. “I don’t want this here,” he mumbled before looking up to her eyes.  “I want it off.”

“Oh…okay. Would you like me to, or…”

“I want to do it,” he insisted, moving as close to the counter as his hard length would allow, parting her thighs further with his hips.  “Just lift your arms.”

She complied, watching his eyes as her fingers reached toward the ceiling.  Oliver took his time gathering the hem of the green satin against his palms, and then lifted the beautiful, unwanted fabric up above her head. When he let the gown fall onto the counter beside her, Felicity lowered her arms to her sides and looked to his face.

He knew she was observing his reaction to her body, but he honestly couldn’t understand why she would question it at all.  Reaching his hand to her neck, he smoothed slowly down the center of her chest, between the round, soft firmness of her breasts, and then across her tiny belly, as his eyes feasted on the sight.  He skimmed lightly over the juncture of her thighs, not concentrating on her sex right this moment, but rather appreciating the beauty of her form.

Oliver returned his gaze to hers. “Damn, you’re perfect,” he realized, and it was the absolute truth.  Felicity smiled with his words, and it lit up her entire face.  And Oliver understood then that it wouldn’t have mattered what she looked like, and it wouldn’t have mattered if her entire body were covered in scars, because she would still be just as beautiful.

“Really?” she asked, her eyes shimmering as they continued to search his. 

Oliver couldn’t believe she ever doubted the fact.  But then he looked even farther into her, even farther into her sky blue, and he could see the uncertainty deep inside her.  For whatever reason, this stunning creature in his arms wasn’t comfortable in her own skin.  Oliver didn’t know why – except perhaps for the fact that there were two women inside her – and he considered, just now, that it was possible even Felicity herself didn’t know which woman truly belonged here.

Reaching out to her, Oliver grabbed her face in both hands and stared hard into her eyes. “Felicity, you’re perfect. Just as you are now, or in any way you choose to be.”

Her shoulders dropped with his words, and moisture sprang to the corners of her eyes, and she gave him a trembling smile.  “Kiss me, Oliver, please,” she begged, and they were quite possibly the sweetest words he’d ever heard.

Her arms wrapped around him the moment his lips touched hers, and she opened completely to his tongue and his taste and his touch.  Her fingers curled over his hair before moving down to his neck and then onto his shoulders, pulling him closer and closer.  Oliver kissed her long and hard and forever, until the sound of her panting broke through the haze in his brain and he realized how hard her body arched up against his, begging to be filled.  He reached for her hips, pulling her closer, and listened to her moan as her thighs hitched up on either side of his waist.

“Need to be inside you,” he murmured against her mouth while pressing tiny kisses to the corners of her lips. 

“Yes, please. _Please_ , please.  Like, pretty please with a cherry on top and lots of sugar.”

“Mmm-hmm, sugar,” he repeated, not even exactly sure what he was saying at this point.

Oliver took a step back and reached for his pants.  His fingers brushed up against his thick, swollen length and just the feel of his own hand nearly undid him.  He shook his head as he popped open the button.  “I’m really sorry this first time isn’t going to last as long as I’d like it to,” he apologized, knowing he didn’t have much stamina left at all right now. Then he pulled down his zipper and freed the erection that was now so hard and painful it practically required medical attention.  “But I promise you that I will make you come.”

“Don’t worry, Oliver,” she panted in response.  “I don’t think it’s going to take me very long at all.”

He smiled. “You that close already?”

“Umm-hmm. It’d probably just take a good, stiff wind to send me over the edge at this point.  Or, you know, maybe even a gentle breeze.”

“Gentle breeze?” he echoed as he stepped back up to the counter.  “I think I can do a bit better than that.”  He wanted to take his pants completely off, but that would mean too much precious time away from her, so he decided it wasn’t necessary. He just pushed the material roughly open and then reached for her hips, pulling her forward until she was balanced on the very edge. 

Felicity steadied herself with her hands on his shoulders.  The movement brought them even closer together, and the tip of his length pressed against her sex, lining up perfectly with the entrance to her body. Her lips parted on a gasp and Oliver focused on the excitement in her eyes as his fingers dug into her skin.

“Wrap your legs around me,” he instructed, waiting until she complied.  When her warm thighs encased him, he pressed his forehead onto hers and took another deep breath, filling his lungs with the smell of her soap and flowers, mixed now with the intoxicating scent of her arousal. “You ready, Felicity?”

“Yes. _Yes_.”

Oliver heard the desperation in her voice, and so he allowed himself to push slowly and fully inside her, inch by inch, savoring each and every moment until he was buried to the hilt in her sweet, wet heat.  Damn, she was so tight, and so soft, and so incredibly perfect.  She surrounded him, fully and completely, and he pressed his eyes shut and dropped his head onto her shoulder as he worked to breathe. “Fuck,” he growled against her collarbone.

“Oh, God, _oh_.  It feels so good having you inside me, Oliver.  So, so amazingly _good_.”

He sucked in a hard breath. “Felicity, please, just…don’t say anything for a minute.  I’m barely holding on as it is.”

She whimpered in response to his pained request, her arms banding around his neck and her fingers threading into his hair.  She pressed her face beside his cheek, the little puffs of her sighs warming his skin. Then she wrapped her legs tighter around his waist, and Oliver felt her link her feet together in the middle of his back.  And he wasn’t sure he’d ever felt anything better.

He tried to move, just a little, to give her some friction, to give her _something_. But the moment he did, he felt a surge of electricity shoot down his spine and he nearly emptied himself inside her. “Damn it,” he breathed. “I’m sorry.”

She held his head in her hands and pressed her lips into his hair.  “Why are you sorry?”

Oliver lifted his head, looking into her sweet, trusting eyes.  “I just can’t seem to control myself.  I’m trying to give you an incredible, earth-shattering experience, and I can barely keep myself from coming right this instant, just from the warmth of your body. I feel like some fumbling teenager. You’d think I’d never had sex before.”

“Oh, no, I don’t think that at all,” she said with a firm shake of her head.  “I can tell you’re experienced.  Like, really, _really_ experienced.”  She grinned at him for a moment after she made her comment, but then her glowing look of happiness was rapidly replaced by sheer terror.  “No, wait…I didn’t mean to suggest that you’re _that_ experienced.   I wasn’t trying to say that you’ve slept with every woman on the East Coast, or any number even remotely near that.  I just, I remembered you telling me that you’d been with a lot of girls in high school, and now that you’re an adult – with this body and those eyes and that smile and just _everything_ – I imagine you’ve had a lot more women since.  But I really don’t mean that in a negative way.  Not at all.  I’m not implying that you’re a scoundrel or anything…I really was just trying to reassure you that you’re amazingly good at this whole thing.  Which, I realize now, I probably did _not_ succeed in doing.”

Oliver’s brow quirked up when her babble finished running its course.  “Scoundrel?” he echoed.  “Did you just call me a _scoundrel_?”

“No, I said that you _aren’t_ a scoundrel. But I am sorry about the word choice. Did you ever see _The Empire Strikes Back_ , when Han Solo was about to kiss Princess Leia and she calls him a scoundrel?”

“Yes, I saw it.”

“Well, I always thought that scene was pretty sexy, so…”

“Are you actually telling me that you’re thinking about Star Wars right now?”

“Oh, well…I’m not _actively_ thinking about Star Wars, like with the flying spaceships and all that.  It was more just the sexy scene part…if that helps.” When she finished speaking, she cringed and bit into her lip.  “I don’t know; does that help?”

He reached up and pulled her lip out from her teeth, running his thumb across the smoothness of her mouth. “You know, oddly enough, it helps,” he said, pulling his full length slowly out of her warmth before sinking himself back inside her again.  He watched her eyelids flutter with the sensation, and he was grateful to be back in control of his body. The scoundrel conversation was infinitely helpful, not because it in any way lessened his desire for her, but because it renewed his determination to make her enjoy this moment as much as he was going to.

“Kiss me, Felicity,” he instructed, needing to pull her back to him, needing to have her present and aware and ready.  Because he had every intention of showing her what a scoundrel could do for her.

She pressed her mouth to his, tentative and slightly unsure, and he smiled against her lips a moment before he took over the kiss.  Then he proceeded to devour her mouth with his own, warring his tongue with hers as he edged himself in and out of her hot, wet sex.  He found an exceptional rhythm quite easily, holding her hips in hands and pulling her close to him so he could slide in and out of her body while his tongue licked and tasted and explored her mouth.

Eventually he pulled back to rest his forehead against hers, in order to listen to the sweet little pants that left her throat as he continued to edge his hard length in and out of her warmth.  He glanced down to her chest, seeing the little beads of moisture springing up across her skin as her breasts bounced in time with his thrusts, and he inhaled sharply. “Lean back on the counter, Felicity. Now, please.  I need to taste more of you.”

She made a groaning sound, as if she couldn’t imagine not touching him right now, but then she did as he asked and leaned back, placing her hands against the cool wood. Oliver kept one arm around her low back, controlling the movement of her hips as he continued to fuck her, only a bit slower now, allowing himself more time to enjoy her body. With his other hand, he took the weight of one breast in his fingers and then lowered his mouth to her chest, centering his lips around her nipple and drinking in the taste of her salty skin.

Felicity sucked in a shaky breath while he took his time tasting and teasing and tantalizing her, until the tiny bud was hard and jutting beneath his tongue.  She grasped his hair in her fingers and squeezed, alternately pulling him away from her and then closer to her, as she mumbled unintelligible words that sounded like curses and prayers all rolled into one. He mimicked her motions with his hips, thrusting into her and pulling out of her in time with her movements and her moans.  At some point he dragged his tongue from one breast to the other, to continue his attentions in equal measure, but he didn’t really recall making the decision to do it. He only knew that he wanted more of her. He wanted anything and everything she would give. 

Oliver kept driving in and out of her, over and over again, as he sucked and swirled his tongue over her skin, and Felicity’s fingers tightened painfully in his hair while she gasped and groaned.  He didn’t care about the pain.  In fact, he rather enjoyed it.  But it did cause a rush of sensation down his spine, and he knew he didn’t have much time left.

“Oh…oh… _Oliver_ ,” she moaned, whimpering with each thrust he gave, and he smiled against her breast before he lifted his head and reached his hand to her face, pulling her back to him so he could plant his mouth against hers right now, at the end. 

The moment their lips touched and he pushed his tongue inside her, she exploded around him. Her inner walls tightened fiercely, milking his erection until he saw stars behind his eyelids. Oliver let himself go, spilling completely inside her, because he didn’t have a choice in the matter. “Holy fuck,” he groaned against her mouth, his entire body thrumming and shaking and pulsating.

“Oh my God,” she breathed, wrapping her arms around his neck and grasping him hard as she arched into him. Her legs tightened around his waist, holding him securely to her while she sighed and trembled.

Oliver encased her in his arms, his hands spanning her back.  He banded her to his chest while his body continued to empty itself into hers. Then he buried his face into her shoulder, collapsing against her when he felt her rest her head against his.

They stayed like that for several minutes, just holding onto each other while the air returned to their lungs and their hearts resumed a normal pace.  Oliver refused to let go of her, even when he knew he was completely spent and should most definitely withdraw.  He just didn’t want to.  Fuck, if he could be hard again right this instant, he would stay here indefinitely. He would never leave.

“Wow,” Felicity whispered beside his ear.  “That was…wow.”

Oliver smiled and raised his head to see her face.  “Am I still a scoundrel?”

She met his eyes and giggled. “I said you _aren’t_ a scoundrel.”

“Well, give me a few more chances. You might change your mind about that.”

“Oh, no, I won’t,” she insisted with a firm shake of her head.  “I know you’re not a scoundrel, Oliver, because you’re lovely and kind and wonderful. Everything about you is just wonderful.”

Felicity ran her fingers into his hair, smoothing over the tufts she’d been pulling on just a few moments before. She gazed at him with glassy eyes and a gentle grin and she looked absolutely drunk with pleasure and Oliver didn’t know if he’d ever seen anything more beautiful in his entire life. His arms tightened around her of their own volition, because he couldn’t stop the craving in his body, or in his mind, to have her as close to him as humanly possible. 

He clung to her. Just _clung_ to her.  Because he knew that right now, and for every second that he would be trapped on this mountain, he needed her. At this moment in time, for these few days of his life, Oliver needed her more than he needed air or food or water.

And that realization scared the living hell out of him. 

Felicity traced her fingers down the sides of his face, looking into him with the most loving, adoring eyes, and Oliver’s heart pounded frantically in his chest. He blinked his eyes and then straightened his spine, suddenly needing to fight this hold she had on him. She was so close. She was too close. It was all too much. He needed some time away. He needed some distance – even just a _little_ distance.

Untangling himself from her, Oliver mumbled, “Um, I need to go to the restroom, just for a minute.”

Her brow furrowed a bit, but then she dropped her hands to her sides and nodded.  “Of course, Oliver.  It’s just down the hall.” 

When he pulled completely out of her body, a sense of loss descended on him, bringing with it a shit-storm of pain.  So he turned away from her, zipping his pants back up and grabbing his torn shirt from the floor as he moved swiftly down the hall and into the bathroom.

The moment he was inside, he shut the door, dropped his shirt over the edge of the bathtub, and turned to the sink, shoving the faucet on.  He ran the cold water on high and stuck his hands beneath it, bending down to splash the icy water over his face.  It was fucking freezing and it stunned him for a moment, forcing him to take deep breaths into his lungs.

After several moments, when he could finally breathe normally again, he shut off the faucet and grabbed the hunter green towel off of the deer antler towel rack. Oliver ran the towel across his face and neck and then stood stiffly at the sink and stared into the mirror. He didn’t know who stared back at him. He didn’t know what was happening to him.

He only knew that what he’d just felt wasn’t normal.  That wasn’t just sex.  That wasn’t just a good fuck against a countertop.  He honestly didn’t know what it was.  And he really didn’t know where to go from here.

“God, what the hell are you thinking, Oliver?” he questioned his reflection.  But he had no answer, and so he sighed and ran his hand through his hair and just focused on breathing, in and out.  Eventually, he hung the towel back up and looked down to his chest, realizing he was still naked from the waist up. 

Turning to grab his shirt, Oliver’s eyes zeroed in on the ledge at the side of the sink. His entire body stilled as he absorbed the sight.  Right there, in front of him, were all of Felicity’s personal care items, lined up in order. Deodorant, toothpaste, toothbrush, makeup case, hairbrush, perfume…all distinctly arranged in a perfect pattern. Oliver’s jaw fell. He stared at each product in turn, not quite sure what he was seeing.  He stood, frozen in place, for several more minutes.  And then he laughed. 

_Dear Lord, is she a frolicking freebird at all?  Does happy, carefree Felicity even exist? Or is the real Felicity just like me, a stressed-out executive trying desperately to find a way to make life better?_

Oliver couldn’t help himself; he reached out and took her deodorant bottle into his hand. He moved it to the end of the line. And then he smiled. It was a wicked smile, honestly. But it was still a smile.

When he could finally tear his eyes away from that sight, he reached to pick his shirt up off of the edge of the bathtub.  Oliver paused for a moment to appreciate her large, bear-claw-footed tub. He instantly pictured Felicity inside it, with candles glowing on the ledge behind her and bubbles swimming around her naked body. Yeah, he definitively needed to have her in that tub at some point.  He knew he would never be able to leave these mountains with any sense of accomplishment unless he did that.

Pulling his shirt back on, he buttoned up the center and then rolled the torn sleeves up to his elbows before glancing back into the mirror.  Honestly, he thought the shirt looked better this way.  More relaxed.  And then he smiled again, and shook his head, and opened the door.  He needed to get back to his little forest fairy…or whoever she was at the moment.

When Oliver came around the corner of the hallway into the kitchen, Felicity stood with her back to the countertop.  She’d put her robe back on, and she was staring at the floor and chewing on her thumbnail. Her shoulders were tight, and he could feel the tension and anxiety in her body from here.

_Fuck. I did this._

Oliver took a step toward her, knowing her insecurity was his fault and hating himself for making her feel this way. “Hey there, beautiful,” he offered.

Her head popped up with the sound of his voice, and her arm fell to her side as she looked at him. Oliver moved to her, reaching his hand to her face and holding her cheek gently inside his palm. He looked down into her beautiful sky blue, now darkened with her fear.

“Do you regret it already?” Felicity whispered, blinking back moisture from her eyes.

Oliver wanted to grab hold of his chest, in a vain attempt to quell the sharp, stabbing pain inside him, but instead he grabbed her face in both hands and pressed their lips together. He kissed her softly, and gently, and then rested his forehead against hers for a long minute. “I don’t regret anything, Felicity. I never will.”

Raising his head to see her again, he watched a tiny smile pull at the edges of her lips. “I’m so glad, Oliver.”

“Do you want me to stay the night?” he asked, because he knew he should.  Because he didn’t want her to feel alone. Because part of him wanted her to say yes, so that he could carry her into the bedroom and make love to her the way he’d originally planned. 

But the other part of him prayed that she would say no, because he knew this was all too much, too soon, and he needed to keep some walls intact. 

Felicity studied him for a long moment, and then she shook her head almost imperceptibly. “No, that’s alright. Why don’t you go home and get some rest.”

“Oh…okay. If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” she said, reaching up to run her fingers across his jaw.  “But I would love for you to come back tomorrow night, for dinner. If you’d like.”

“Yes,” he accepted without hesitation. Tomorrow would be perfect; it would give him just a little time and a little distance, so he could be stronger. “I would love that, actually.”

“Wonderful. What’s your favorite food?”

“Steak.”

“That’s what we’ll have, then. I’ll have Roy bring your dinner here.”

Oliver nodded. “Okay.  I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

The moment he promised her a tomorrow, Felicity’s shoulders dropped and he felt the tension ease from her body.  She smiled up at him, and bounced just a bit on the balls of her feet.  “Kiss me one more time, Oliver?”

He looked down to her expectant eyes and couldn’t help grinning.  He pressed his lips to hers once, and then, as he started to pull away, he went back in and claimed her mouth again.  “That was two kisses,” he announced as he straightened. “I’m a scoundrel like that.”

She laughed and ran her fingers down his arm, to squeeze his hand in hers.  Oliver held tight for a moment and then said, “Goodnight, Felicity.”

He pulled away, not letting go of her fingers until he absolutely had to, and moved back into the living room to retrieve his jacket.  When he finally made it to the door, he heard her say, “Goodnight, Oliver,” and he looked back to watch her smile.  Oliver returned the smile just before stepping outside into the cold night air.

...

 **A/N** :  Hi there!  I hope you enjoyed this chapter and, as always, I would love to hear your thoughts.  :)Tina

Up next...Chapter 7:  Green and Red


	7. Green and Red

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hi guys! Thanks so much for all of the wonderful feedback on the last chapter - I so appreciate it! I should probably warn you that this fic has a LOT of smut in it from here on out, and I’m not 100% sure where the line gets drawn between a “Mature” and an “Explicit” rating, but I am probably dancing pretty close to that line. So…there’s that :) I really hope you enjoy this!

Oliver’s alarm didn’t wake him the next morning. 

Probably because he hadn’t set an alarm. 

He actually woke to the sound of a bird chirping outside of his bedroom window.  It was a soothing little song, working its way into his mind to pull him slowly from the bliss of his dreams.  Except they weren’t just dreams…they were memories. Memories of Felicity. Memories of last night. Of holding her, of kissing her, of being inside her. 

Oliver took a deep breath in, and a smile curved his lips before he even opened his eyes. He could still smell her – her tiny flowers, her fresh soap.  He could smell her all over him, probably because he’d worn his shirt, complete with torn sleeves, to bed.  Or maybe he could smell her because Felicity was just here, with him, even when she wasn’t.

With that thought, Oliver sat up in bed and threw his legs over the edge, placing his feet securely onto the cold wood floor.  He ran his hands through his hair and then rested his elbows against his knees and just sat, staring at the log walls surrounding him.  He remembered staring into the mirror in Felicity’s bathroom last night. He remembered not really knowing exactly what had happened between them, or what he’d been thinking.

Honestly, Oliver still didn’t know what he’d been thinking last night…except for the obvious thought. He’d wanted her. He’d wanted to be inside her. So he made it happen.

Oh, he’d given her a choice in the matter, of course. 

But had he really given her that much of a choice? 

He knew Felicity was sexually innocent, and yet he’d come on strong.  He’d come on stronger with her than he ever had with any woman in his life.  He’d used every bit of power at his disposal to convince her to let him inside, and now, looking back on his actions in the cold light of day, Oliver realized it probably wasn’t very fair of him. 

The simple truth was that, the moment Felicity agreed to be honest with him last night, Oliver knew he’d won.  Because he already knew how much she wanted his touch, and he knew there was no way she could honestly say she didn’t.  So he pushed her – with his words and with his desires and with his body – he pushed her until he had her right where he wanted her.  And then he took what he wanted.

Shifting on the mattress, Oliver raised his hand to his face and pressed his fingers against his eyelids. Felicity asked him last night if he regretted being with her.  But maybe the real question was whether or not she would regret being with him.

Oliver sucked in a painful breath and stood.  Stepping to his chest of drawers, he peeled off last night’s shirt and grabbed a T-shirt and gym shorts. Then he moved to the bathroom to dress and splash water on his face.  Afterward, he walked through the living room, opened the front door, and retrieved his breakfast tray from the porch. 

Settling down on the green-and-red plaid couch cushions with his food, Oliver shoved a bite of croissant into his mouth and grabbed hold of his orange juice glass.  He would prefer to be eating this in bed right now, with Felicity feeding it to him, but it was probably best for both of them that he’d left last night.  He’d needed some time to recoup from that experience.  And maybe Felicity needed time, too.  Maybe that’s why she’d encouraged him to leave.  But still, even though leaving was for the best, Oliver missed having her in his arms this morning.

 _At least I’ll see her tonight_ , he assured himself. After all, they were going to have dinner together.  It would be a normal, peacefully shared meal of his favorite food – steak – just like she’d promised.

Tonight, Oliver would sit across a candlelit table from her, and share a meal with her, and talk to her, and laugh with her.  Then he would take her into her bedroom and make love to her, slowly and deliberately. And tomorrow morning, he would wake up in her arms.

With a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth, Oliver swallowed a few more bites of food down and then replaced the cover on his tray.  Standing to leave, his eyes darted to the corner of the room, to the empty desk. His trusted computer still sat inside its case on the floor, where he’d thrust it yesterday afternoon, after his illuminating chat with Walter.  The Internet cord that Pete had given him hung out of the side.

Oliver walked over to the desk and grabbed hold of the cord.  He wound it into a tight figure eight, and then shoved it into the pocket of his gym shorts.  It was time to give it back to the little gnome caretaker.

After returning his food tray to the porch, Oliver locked the door behind him and started up the gravel driveway. As he walked, he felt the cord in his pocket jostling against his leg.  And he felt a little sick, honestly, because he knew he was giving up a lifeline. But he also knew it was the right decision.  He needed to finally take the advice Pete had given him his first day here at Blue, and disconnect from the real world for a while.  At least for as long as he was up here on this mountain. 

He could do that now. He didn’t need to bury himself in work, because he had another lifeline to cling to.  He could cling to her.  He could cling to Felicity. 

Actually, he didn’t have a choice in the matter.  He _had_ to cling to her.  For these few days of his life, Oliver really had no other option. He needed her here, now, with him. And he knew that she would be here, in whatever form he required.

That thought soothed him in a way, knowing that Felicity would willingly be his lifeline. But it was also the reason he’d had a mild panic attack after they’d been together last night. Relying on someone that much – especially someone he’d only just met – was terrifying at best. Oliver was used to his independence. He was used to being in control. And he wasn’t sure if he could give up that control, even for her.

…

Oliver jumped up off of the blacktop, shot at the basket, and then frowned as the ball bounced off the rim and into Tommy’s hands.  Again.

“Man, no offense, but your playing sucks today.  Are you okay?”

Oliver blinked as he looked at Tommy.  “What?”

“I’m just wondering what’s going on with you,” Tommy continued, stuffing the basketball beneath his arm as he walked across the court to stand in front of Oliver. “Yesterday you were distracted, and this morning it’s like you’re in another world.”

Oliver shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry; I’m just worried about you.  Are you thinking about Isabel?”

“Who?”

“Isabel? Rochev?  The incredibly gorgeous woman you spent hours talking to last night at the Social?”

“Right…Isabel. No, I’m not thinking about her.”

“Oh,” Tommy said. “I see.”  Then his eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “ _Oh!_ God, I’m so sorry, man; I didn’t know. I promise I won’t do it anymore.”

Oliver’s held tilted. “Won’t do what?”

“I just…I didn’t realize that you’re gay.  But now that I know, I promise I won’t keep trying to push women your way.”

“Tommy, I’m not gay.”

“Hey, it’s okay with me if you are. I’m not one of those people who will judge you because of who you want to love.  I mean, I tried being gay a few times myself.  Well, more bisexual, I guess.”

Oliver smiled. “Okay, well, I’m not going to judge, either.  The thing is, as much as I appreciate you wanting to help me out with the ladies, I really don’t need that.”

“No? Why not?”

The words were on the tip of Oliver’s tongue, but he bit them back.  He didn’t want Tommy to know about Felicity. He’d seen Tommy operate one too many times to feel comfortable giving him her name.  “It’s…it’s nothing.  No reason.”

Tommy grinned wildly. “It’s a woman, isn’t it? You met someone.”

Oliver reached out and knocked the basketball from Tommy’s slack arm.  Then he dodged around his friend’s back and dribbled toward the net. “Why would you think that?”

“Because it’s the only thing that makes sense.  You’re totally preoccupied, and sometimes you get that dopey looking smile.  Only a woman can drive a man that crazy.”

Oliver jumped up and slammed the ball through the net.  Dropping back to the ground, he turned and tossed the ball to Tommy. “Yes, she can drive you crazy, but she can also make you feel like…”

“Like LeBron James, apparently.”

Oliver chuckled. “Yeah.  Just like that.”

Tommy dribbled the ball back toward the basket.  “So, are you planning to share the name of this mystery woman with me?”

“Sorry,” he said, knocking the basketball from Tommy’s grasp, “I don’t kiss and tell.”

“ _Kiss_ and tell?”

Oliver fumbled his fingers against the orange ball when he realized what he’d implied. “Well, that’s just an expression, it’s not…”

“I know what it is, Oliver. And dear God, you’re _blushing_.  Wow, you move fast, buddy.  You were with Isabel half the night; how’d you hook up with another woman so quickly?”

“It’s not _that_ quick.  I didn’t just pick up a stranger after the Social.  I’ve known this woman for…”  Oliver grasped onto the ball and stilled for a long minute.

“For?” Tommy repeated in his silence.

Oliver’s heart tripped over a beat.  Tommy was asking him to define something that he hadn’t even had the time to define for himself. Not that he probably could define it, even if he tried his damnedest for the rest of his life. “Well, I’ve known her for six days, I guess.”

“Six whole days, huh? So, when’s the wedding?”

Oliver watched his friend grin and forced himself to smile back.  In his mind, he knew that Tommy was right.  This thing with Felicity wasn’t permanent.  They were just two people who’d found each other for a brief period of time. They were just two people holding onto each other at the top of a mountain. 

“I get your point, Tommy; I haven’t known her forever.  But she and I are…we’re both just…on vacation.”

“And you’re sure that’s all it is? Because you look awfully involved for a guy who’s only having a little vacation fling.”

Oliver nodded stiffly. “That’s all it is.”

_After all, it’s not like I’m going to take Frolicking Freebird Felicity home to meet my parents.  I mean…I’m not going to do that.  Am I?_

“She and I are both just on vacation, Tommy,” he repeated, reinforcing the thought into his brain.

“Okay,” Tommy said with a shrug.  “Good luck with that, buddy.” Then he knocked the ball out of Oliver’s hand, dribbled up to the basket, and dunked the ball in.

Oliver just stood there and stared. 

… 

An hour later, Oliver left Tommy at the gym and made his way down the road toward the information cabin. He was still a little rattled by their conversation on the basketball court, but the more he walked, the more his head cleared.  He didn’t have to define this thing with him and Felicity.  She certainly wasn’t asking him to.  And they didn’t need to, because they each knew where they stood. They were both adults. Both on vacation. Both in need of someone to touch. That was all this was. It was all it needed to be. And he was okay with that.

He knew it was a practical viewpoint, and he honestly wasn’t trying to be a dick about it. He just didn’t want to make more of their relationship than what it was, because that wouldn’t do him, or her, any good.  They’d agreed last night that being here at Blue – and everything about the two of them together – was unusual.  It wasn’t reality. And Oliver figured they both needed a break from reality.  He knew he certainly did. And Felicity?  Well, he felt pretty certain that she needed a break, too.

He wanted to be that for her…to be her alternative to reality.  He wanted to help her.  Felicity told him last night that he was already helping her.  He thought that his touch was the one thing he had to give, but Felicity said he was helping her before he even laid a finger on her. So maybe touch wasn’t the _only_ thing he could give her. Maybe just _being_ with her gave her something more.

Even if it was only for these few days.

The information cabin came into view, redirecting Oliver’s mind to the purpose of this afternoon’s journey.  He continued down driveway and up the porch stairs to the thick mahogany door.  Pulling open the handle, he stepped into the large tree-house room and looked around.  The fireplace still sparked and glowed, and the cinnamon and pine scents still wafted into his nose, and the deer antlers still hung over the oak desk, just as they had the first day he’d arrived at Blue.  But now, Oliver didn’t feel panicked at all, by any of it. In fact, as he saw Pete look up from his crossword puzzle, Oliver felt a smile spread his lips. Probably because he suddenly got the image in his head of Felicity wringing her hands and babbling while trying to ask the kindly old man for non-latex condoms.  And the thought of her adorably scrunched up brow and thoroughly nibbled lip sent a shot of warmth through his entire body.

“Hey there, Mr. Jackson,” he offered as he moved up to the desk.

“Aw, I told you to call me Pete, Mr. Queen.”

“I do remember that, Pete. And I’d like for you to call me Oliver, please.”

The little old gnome smiled as he peered over the top of his bifocals.  “Well, now, that is something I can do.”  He set his crossword puzzle down and smiled. “It’s been a busy day for me today; don’t normally get so many visitors.  What can I do for you?  Did you come to schedule a therapy session?”

Oliver shook his head. “No, actually. I just wanted to bring you this,” he explained, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the Internet cable. He set the wound cord on the oak desk and looked back to Pete.

“Well, it’s about time,” the gnome sighed.  “You held onto it a lot longer than most first-timers.  Ever been told that you’re a bit tenacious, Oliver?”

He chuckled. “Maybe once or twice.”

“Good for you, for bringing it back,” Pete offered as he grabbed the cord with his stubby fingers and stuck it back under the desk.  “And, since you’re here, let me just give you the updated list of doctors on staff this week.”

“But I told you I’m not here to schedule a session.”

“Oh, no, of course you’re not.”  He laid the paper out on the desktop.  “But it’s always good to have information, just in case you change your mind.”

Oliver glanced down to the list of names.  He only recognized one: Dr. Quentin Lance. He ran his finger over the printed letters.

“Dr. Lance,” Pete observed. “Have you seen him around?”

“No, I just heard some guests talking about him at the Social last night.”

“He’d be a good one for you, I think.  He’s very no-nonsense. Usually works out pretty well for the hard-working types, like yourself.”

Oliver looked up to Pete’s gentle blue eyes and smiled.  “Thanks for the recommendation, but I think I’m okay.”

“Well, you take that paper on home with you, anyway.  If you do change your mind, just give me a ring.”

“Alright,” Oliver agreed, not wanting to disappoint the little gnome, even though he felt pretty sure that he wouldn’t be changing his mind.  “Thanks, Pete.”

“Anytime, Oliver.”

Oliver grabbed the paper and walked back out of the cabin. 

…

A million and one hours passed before it was dinnertime. 

That might have been a slight exaggeration, but it felt pretty close to real time.

Oliver stood at the window of his cabin, just waiting for the sun to set.  He’d come back from seeing Pete a lifetime ago, and he’d showered and dressed, and then paced around the log floors until his feet hurt. He knew Roy would be delivering his meal to Felicity’s tonight, so Oliver couldn’t even distract himself by talking to the red-hooded boy. 

The waiting was torture. He’d gone back to stand in front of his mirror more than once.  Or possibly more than a dozen times.  He’d put on khakis, and then he’d chosen a black, short-sleeve shirt, so Felicity wouldn’t have to deal with any buttons at his wrists.  But the shirt was still crisp and fairly formal.  He wanted to look nice for their dinner date. He wanted to look nice for her.

When dusk finally hit, Oliver flew out of his front door, barely getting it shut behind him. It was cool outside, and he probably should have worn long sleeves or a jacket, but the blood rushing through his veins made the weather bearable.  Besides, he wasn’t about to turn around to change clothes; he definitely had somewhere he needed to be.

As he moved up his driveway and onto the paved road, Oliver tried to tell himself to act calm and casual. If he’d realized anything after his talk with Tommy today, it was that he couldn’t make this relationship with Felicity into more than what it actually was.  In his mind, he knew that.  But he still felt his heart race when he arrived at the entrance to her driveway in record time.

Taking a step onto the gravel, and listening to it crunch beneath his shoes while he hurried forward, Oliver wondered how his forest fairy would feel today, after what they’d done last night. Would she be excited to see him, and bounce around her living room with giddy smiles and laughter? Or would she be shy, and fumbling with her words and with her fingers?  Would his little bird be all-aflutter?  Or would she be demure?  Or regretful?

Oliver shook his head as he came closer to her cabin.  _God, please don’t let her be regretful. Not that.  I can handle anything but that_.

He didn’t want her to regret anything they’d done last night, especially since he’d basically seduced her into letting him fuck her on a countertop.  But he would make up for that tonight.  Tonight, he would be the perfect gentleman. Tonight he would make love to her the right way.  And it would all be okay in the morning. 

Her cabin came into view then, and a smile lit his face.  But only for a second.  Because once he took a good look, his face fell and his footsteps faltered. 

Felicity’s cabin was completely dark inside.  There was no light coming from the windows at all.  It was pitch black.

For a moment, Oliver’s vision blurred.  Because the only thing he could imagine was that she’d left.  After everything they’d shared these past days, after everything that happened last night, she’d just packed up her things and gone.

That thought was sharp as a knife in his chest.

“Felicity?” he called out when he was within a few feet of the cabin.  “Are you there?”

A moment later, his feet hit the porch steps and he bounded up to the door.  “ _Felicity?_ ” he yelled, raising his hand to knock – or pound ferociously – on the thick wood. But, before he had the chance, it opened. The door pulled away from him, and a blast of hot air hit him directly in the face.

He hesitated to reach for the handle, not knowing what was happening.  “God, Felicity, are you okay?  It’s so hot in here; is there a fire or something?”

“I’m fine, Oliver. And nothing is on fire at the moment.”

His shoulders eased the second he heard her voice coming from behind the door.  But his heart still raced, because he had no idea what was going on.  “Was there a fire before? Damn, I can’t see a thing. Can you turn on a light?”

“Nope. No lights.  Just step inside,” she instructed. 

“What?”

“Take a few steps inside the living room, please.”

He did as she asked, moving a couple feet into the cabin as he tried to discern shapes in the darkness. Then he heard the front door snap shut and lock behind him.  “Felicity, what is going on?  You had me scared to death that something happened to you.”

“Nothing happened; everything is okay,” she assured, her voice coming from over his shoulder. He started to turn, to move toward her, but then he felt her hand ease onto his forearm.  “No, don’t turn around.  Just stand very still for a moment.”

“Why?”

Felicity pressed her cheek to his bicep and ran her hand down his forearm.  She sighed against him, and he could feel her warm breath on his hot skin. “Do you trust me, Oliver?”

“Yes,” he answered without hesitation.  “Of course I trust you.”

“Good. Because I want to do something a little unusual tonight, if that’s okay.”

“What are we talking about? How unusual?”

“Do you feel this?” she asked just as she ran something soft across his hand.

Oliver clenched the material in his fist.  “It’s silky.”

“Yes. It’s a scarf.  I would like to blindfold you with it.”

“ _Blindfold_ _me?_ Why in the hell do you want to blindfold me?”

A soft laugh escaped her throat. “Because I’ve never done it before and I’ve always wanted to blindfold a man before I have sex with him. Is that okay?”

Oliver nearly choked on his own tongue.  _Did she just say what I think she said?  And why is it so dark in here?  And so hot?  And, holy shit, did she just say what I think she said?_   “Felicity, are you serious?”

“Mmm-hmm,” she acknowledged, dragging the soft, flowing fabric away from his hand and up his arm. “I would like to do this very much. If you’ll let me.”

“I…” he began a thought, but didn’t know exactly how to finish.  Because his mind was all over the place, while his pants suddenly became uncomfortably tight.  “I’m just…I’m trying to process things here, for a minute, if that’s alright.”

“Of course it’s alright, Oliver.”

“Good, because I’m not exactly sure what’s happening right now.  I thought I was coming here for dinner, and now it’s pitch black and crazy hot and you’re trying to wrap a scarf around my head.  And you’re also talking about having sex, which I am definitely not opposed to, but it’s a little difficult to absorb all of this information at once and…”  His voice trailed off as he tilted his head in her general direction.  “Wait, did you say you’ve never blindfolded a man before?”

“ _That’s_ the thing you want to focus on?”

“To start with, yes.”

“No, Oliver. I haven’t ever blindfolded a man.”

“But you want to.”

Felicity sighed, and he could hear her dejection.  “Yes, I want to. It’s just…I’m curious about a few things, and I want to try this.  With you, specifically, if that helps.”

Oliver sucked in a deep breath.  He felt her fingers move to his arm, stroking softly up and down, and he concentrated on the feel of her petting him.  God, he’d missed that. He’d missed her touch. He’d missed her voice. He’d missed every damn little thing about her.  He’d even missed all the surprises that came with her…in fact, he’d probably missed them most of all.

Her touch was so warm, even in the heat of the room, and Oliver smiled into the darkness. “Okay, Felicity. If that’s what you want, if that’s what will make you happy, then go ahead.  Blindfold me.”

Her hand stilled against his skin. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

She giggled then. It was a bright, giddy sound, like sunshine bursting through the room, and Oliver chuckled in response. He held very still as he felt her move to stand behind him, as he felt her soft hands brush through his hair, as he felt the silky material being wrapped over his eyes and tied behind his head. She didn’t pull too hard, but she did make sure the blindfold was secure by running her fingers across his face. Then she dropped her arms to her sides and he could feel the little puffs of her breaths against his arm.

“How is it, Oliver? Not too tight?”

“It’s fine.”

“And you can’t see anything through it, right?”

“I don’t think so. But I wouldn’t really know, because it’s dark as hell in here.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry about that,” she offered.  He heard her move then, circling widely around his body before bustling about a few feet in front of him. “I’m going to fix that now.”

A distinct snap filled his ears and Oliver saw a haze of light from behind the silk scarf. “Are you lighting candles?”

“Yes, I set a few here on the living room table.  But you can’t see me, can you?”

“No. Just a bit of a yellow glow.”

“Good. That’s perfect.”

The blur that was her body straightened somewhere before him and, as much as he wanted her to be happy, he hated the fact that he couldn’t see her.  “ _Felicity_ , what is happening here tonight?  I thought we were going to have a nice dinner together.”

“Oh, we are having dinner, Oliver. Don’t worry; I won’t let you go hungry.”

“But then what is with the blindfold?  And the darkness? And the _heat_?”

“It is hot in here, isn’t it?”

“Yes. Why is that?”

“Because I turned the thermostat all the way up.”

“Well, of course you did. Can I ask why?”

“Because I don’t want you to get cold when you’re naked.”

Oliver coughed. “And when, exactly, am I’m going to be naked?”

“Well, now is a good time for me.”

“ _Now?_ ”

“Yes. I would like for you to undress, please.”

“You want me to undress here – now – in front of you?”

“Yes. I want to see all of you.”

“But I can’t see any of you.”

Felicity giggled. “Yeah, it’s funny how those blindfolds work, isn’t it?”

Oliver shook his head and fisted his fingers, tempted to reach up and snatch this scarf off of his face and retake control of this dinner date.  But then he listened to her laughter and his hands eased back open. “You’re really happy right now, aren’t you?” he asked, not because he didn’t know the answer, but because he wanted her to acknowledge the smile that he knew must be lighting up her face.

“Yes,” she sighed. “I must admit that I am blissfully happy right now.”

The bashfulness he heard in her voice brought a fresh, new warmth to Oliver’s already overly heated body. He imagined how bright and shinning her eyes would be if he could see them, and how her entire body would thrum with excitement for whatever sexual venture this was for her. And he just stood there, blindfolded in her candlelit living room, and grinned like an idiot.

“ _I_ am doing great,” she reiterated.  “But how are _you_ , Oliver?”

Oh, he knew exactly how he was. He was whipped. Because right this minute, he couldn’t possibly deny her anything.  He knew he would do anything to make her happy.  “I’m doing just fine, Felicity.  And, apparently, I am now going to get undressed.”

“Oh my gosh, really? That’s fantastic!”

She clapped then. Actually _clapped_. And Oliver chuckled as he reached for his shirt.  “I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone clap for me while I undress,” he considered as his fingers undid the buttons and pulled the material open across his chest and over his shoulders.

Felicity made a little choking sound when his shirt hit the floor.  “Well, that’s ridiculous, Oliver.  You should definitely be applauded for undressing. Have you seen you?”

He exhaled as he kicked off his shoes.  “I am definitely much more interested in seeing _you_ ,” he insisted while popping open the button on his pants.  Felicity made another sound, this one a gulping squeak, and he could feel her eyes glued to his every moment, which made him grow harder and thicker as he stripped.  When he undid his zipper, his erection forced its way out and he had to maneuver his clothing over the jutting length in order to push his pants and boxers down to the floor.  Then he stepped out of the material and stood before her, naked as a jaybird, with his entire body standing at attention.  “Alright, Felicity.  I’m undressed. And blindfolded. What on earth are you going to do with me now?”

“Um…well…” she fumbled with her words, and Oliver wasn’t sure what had her rattled right at this moment. He hoped it was the gigantic erection. But he couldn’t be sure. Not with this fucking scarf covering his eyes. “I actually want to try something else unusual, Oliver.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

He held very still as he heard her little footsteps padding across the log floor.  Oliver felt her body circle around his.  And then she came to a stop behind him. 

“Will you put your hands behind your back?” she asked.

“Why?”

“Just…please?”

His shoulders fell on sigh and he placed both hands behind him. 

Felicity set a new thing inside his palms.  “Do you feel that?”

“What am I feeling? Is that…is that a _rope_ , Felicity?”

“It is.”

Oliver’s fingers clenched around the hard twine.  “Good God, woman! What has gotten into you tonight?”

She laughed again, enthusiastic and bubbly and excited, and Oliver knew exactly what had gotten into her tonight: this was Frolicking Freebird Felicity at her finest.  She was with him now, in all her glory, and he probably didn’t stand a chance against whatever she had planned.

He knew that thought should terrify him.  But it didn’t. At least, not entirely.

“I’m just trying out some new things tonight,” she offered as an explanation.  Then she stepped closer to his back, although she still didn’t touch him.  “And I would really like to use this rope to tie you up a bit.”

“ _A_ _bit_?” he echoed, his brow arching above the blindfold.  “What exactly does _a bit_ mean?”

“It means I would like to tie your hands behind your back.  That’s all. Just your hands. I’m sorry the rope is scratchy; I would use something softer to tie you up, but I only packed one scarf with me.”

“But you packed _rope_ with you?”

“No, Oliver, I didn’t pack rope.”

“Then how did you get it?”

“I…acquired it.”

“From _where_?”

She heaved a sigh. “Oh, okay.  If you must know, I got it from Pete.”

“Pete Jackson, the little old caretaker?”

“Yes.”

“So, let me get this straight. You told me in the woods that you would be nervous to ask Pete for _condoms_ , and yet you felt perfectly comfortable asking him for _rope_?”

Felicity giggled, and the movement shifted the hard twine against Oliver’s palm.  He shook his head as he recalled the old gnome staring at him over his bifocals today.  “You know, Pete told me this afternoon that he’d had more visitors than usual.”

“You saw Pete this afternoon? I was there in the morning; we must have just missed each other.”

“I guess we did.”

“We’ve probably just missed each other quite a few times.”

“Do you think so?” he questioned, his brow furrowing as he wondered how many times they could have passed by each other up here on the trails at Blue, seeing as he never saw her in the common areas.

“So, why did you go to see Pete today, Oliver?”

“Oh, well. I just…I went to return my Internet connection cord.”

“You did? Why?”

“Because I don’t need it anymore.”

“Seriously? Oh my gosh!  That’s _amazing_! I’m so happy for you, and…”

“Felicity…”

“I mean, that is such a positive, forward move!  It’s just wonderful that you can…”

“ _Felicity!_ ”

Her breath caught. “Yes?”

“Can we please refocus? I think we have more pressing matters to discuss than my Internet cord.  You are holding a _rope_ in my hand. A rope that you want to _tie me up_ with.”

“Oh. Right.  We need to get back to that.”

Oliver huffed. “Yes, I would very much like to get back to that.  And to the Pete issue.”

“What Pete issue?”

“The fact that you asked him for a rope and he just handed it over to you!”

“Well, Pete and I aren’t strangers.  I’ve known him for a long time.  He trusts me.”

“Yeah, but still. Nearly deserted mountains, a bunch of psychiatric patients, and a _rope_ , don’t exactly add up to the best combination.  Did he at least ask you what is was for?”

“Yes, he did ask me. And I did _not_ tell him that I was planning to tie up Oliver Queen for sex, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Oh, well, thank God for that. But what _did_ you tell him?”

“ _Oliver_ ,” she breathed, leaning forward and pressing her body up against his back.  Her completely, tantalizingly, incredibly, utterly _naked_ body. “Do you really want to stand here and discuss Pete Jackson right now?”

Oliver sucked in a sharp breath as her tight nipples grazed across his back and her soft lips pressed against his shoulder blade.  His hands were wedged onto her stomach, and even with the rope still lying between them, he could trace the smooth outline of her little bare tummy with his fingertips. “You’re, um…you’re naked,” he mastered the obvious.

“Yes I am.”

“Have you been naked this whole time?”

“Yes I have. Which is why the lights were out when you came in, because I wanted it to be a surprise.  And it’s also the reason why it’s so hot in here, because I didn’t want to freeze to death while I was waiting for you.”

“Were you naked when Roy delivered dinner?”

Felicity’s forehead fell onto his back as she laughed.  “No. No.  _No_ ,” she insisted between giggles. “Now, can we please get back to the rope thing?”

“If we have to.”

She straightened then, easing away from him, until her body lost all contact with his. She even let the rope drop away from his hands.  Oliver returned his arms back to his sides, although his fingers itched with the need to touch her.

“Oliver, if you don’t want to do this tying-up thing, I totally understand.”

“I didn’t say that I didn’t want to do it, Felicity.”  After all, he’d been tied up by women before.  And he’d also been the one to do the tying.  He’d had his fair share of kinky sex. 

The problem was that Oliver didn’t believe kinkiness was the real reason Felicity was doing this, and that thought was even more disturbing than her being a closeted dominatrix. Kinky he could handle. But this?  He didn’t know about this.  “I guess I’m just curious as to _why_ you want to tie me up.”

“Well,” she considered, “when compared to some other people I’ve met, I wouldn’t say that I have an especially active sexual fantasy life going on in my head. But it does exist, and this is something I’ve always been curious about.  Plus, I think it could be a bonding tool – which, as I’m saying it out loud, sounds kind of funny, because it’s both literal and figurative.”

“So…you think that tying me up is going to be bonding experience for us?”

“I think it could be.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s unplanned.”

Oliver huffed out a laugh. “I think we both know that’s not true. You’ve planned this all day, at least. Or…did you plan this before today? Damn, how long ago _did_ you plan this?”

She chuckled. “Just today, Oliver. Although I must admit that I got the idea last night, when I was trying to get your shirt off and you couldn’t get your hands out of your sleeves.  And yes, I planned this whole thing out, but that’s not the point. The point is that _you_ didn’t plan it.”

“Why is that the point?”

“Because I get the feeling that everything in your life is planned, Oliver.  Completely and utterly planned, in exceptional detail, by you. Am I wrong?”

 _This coming from the woman who lines up her toiletries just as compulsively as I do._ “Just so you know, I do some things very spontaneously.”

“You do? Like what?”

“Um…” He tried to think of an answer, but it was difficult.  And he didn’t know if that was because he never did anything spontaneously, or if it was because the awareness of her naked body so close to his had addled his brain. “Well, I came up here for vacation, didn’t I?”

“Yes, you did. And how long did it take you to get your affairs in order so that you could take this vacation?”

Oliver’s shoulders fell. “A month,” he admitted. Then he shook his head. “Okay, so I’m a planner. It’s not a crime, Felicity.”

“No, it’s not. But I’m asking you, just once, to let that go.  I’m asking you to trust me.”

“I do trust you.”

“Then let me be in control tonight, Oliver.  Please.”

He cringed with the words, because he didn’t want to give up his control.  And yet, at the same time, he knew it was only fair. Because he hadn’t let her be in control of much of anything last night.  On the contrary, he’d done exactly what _he_ wanted the first time they were together.  And now, tonight, he knew he needed to reciprocate, and let her do what _she_ wanted.

“So, you’ve never blindfolded a man before,” Oliver considered, testing the air of this new world he’d stepped into, “and you’ve never tied a man up.”

“Nope. Neither one.”

“And you want me to be your first.”

“Yes. I really want it to be you.”

Oliver put one hand behind his back.  “Let me feel the rope again?” he requested, waiting for her to set the twine against his palm, not because he needed to feel _it_ , but because he needed to feel _her_. When Felicity’s hand rested inside of his once more, Oliver smiled to himself.  Her dainty fingers trembled around the rope, and he knew she was nervous. His brave-hearted, fierce little fairy was _nervous_.  And Oliver didn’t want her to be.  Not when he was perfectly willing to be her alternative to reality.

“Well, it’s hard to say _no_ to being your first, Felicity, so…”

“Only if you want to,” she interjected, her voice now edged with concern.  “I mean, only if it’s not going to cause you any harm. You assured me last night that you don’t want to hurt me, Oliver, and I don’t want to hurt you, either. I just…I want to try this with you. But, if my actions are in any way detrimental to you, just tell me and I will stop.”

Oliver recognized the words he’d said to her the night before, and he released a long exhale. “You won’t hurt me,” he promised.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

He brought his other hand behind his back then, pressing his wrists together.  “Go ahead, Felicity.  Tie me up.”

“Really?” she asked, and he could hear the excitement returning to her voice.

“Yes, really. You know what? I want you to tie me up.”

“You _do_?”

“I do. Please tie me up, Felicity. Pretty please with a cherry on top and lots of sugar.”

Oliver felt wafts of air moving against his back then, and he knew she was bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet.  “You’re really, _really_ , absolutely sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. Seriously, do your worst,” he teased, feeling pretty certain that he would be able to get out of whatever knot she tied anyway.  He knew she was nervous, and she’d already admitted that she’d never tied anyone up before, so he figured she would be timid about actually using the rope on him. But he would pretend that she’d done a good job with her ties, and hold his hands together for as long as he could, just to make her happy.

“Yay!” she squealed from behind him.  Then he felt her fingers against his palms, and felt her run the rope across his wrists. “Let me know if it’s too tight, okay?”

Oliver grinned. “I’m sure it will be fine.”

She wound the rope in and out between his hands, and whipped it around and over, and then did some interesting things with her fingers, and his eyes scrunched up behind the blindfold as he tried to envision what he thought he felt. It seemed like she should already be done with her task, but she just kept forming more loops. She just kept going and going.

“What…what is that knot you’re tying now, Felicity?  Is that a sailor’s knot?”

“Oh, yeah, I did a couple of those. I also did a few figure eights and a timber hitch, too.”

 _What the fuck?_   “Where did you learn to tie knots like this?”

“Oh, well. I was a Girl Scout.”

“ _A Girl Scout?_ ”

“Mmm-hmm,” she confirmed as she tugged on the rope to secure it.  “I spent a lot of time traipsing through the woods as a kid, hiking and camping with my troop.  And, along the way, I learned a thing or two about tying knots.”

God, he should have known she was a Girl Scout.  He could envision her crawling around campgrounds on her hands and knees, talking to plants. “You’re, um, you’re very good at it,” he realized as he attempted to pull his wrists against the rope and understood, without a doubt, that he was not getting out of this binding without her help. Or with the help of some sort of shiv. Which he did not have on him, because he was naked.  Not that he’d ever had a shiv on him, that he could recall. 

_Damn it!_

“I think I’m done, Oliver. How does it feel?”

“Tight.”

“Too tight?”

“No, it’s just…very secure.”

“Oh. Well, good!  Not bad for my first try, then?”

“Nope. You are an expert already.”

“Man, this is fun. I am having so much fun! Are you having fun?”

Oliver pulled on the ropes again. “I think I am.”

“Well, that didn’t sound too certain.  But don’t worry, because I am going to make sure that you enjoy yourself.  I mean, I absolutely _swear_ that you will enjoy yourself.”

His ears perked up with that promise.  “Yeah? What did you have in mind, Felicity? I mean, after you blindfolded me, had me strip naked, and then tied me up?”

She giggled and wrapped her fingers around his bicep.  “Well, I told you I would feed you dinner, so that’s what I’m going to do. Now just take a few steps forward.”

He cringed behind the scarf, resisting her pull on his arm.

“What’s wrong, Oliver?”

“I don’t really feel comfortable with this.  Everything here is made of logs.  I have no desire to trip and fall on my face.”

“I promise I won’t let you fall.”

“And I appreciate the reassurance, but I’m thinking I need to move a bit to the left because I think the table is pretty much right in front of me.”

Felicity stepped up to him, and he felt her nipples graze against his chest.  He gritted his teeth together with that sensation as her voice filled his ears.  “Don’t think, Oliver. Not right now. Tonight isn’t about thinking; it’s about feeling.  I want you to just _feel_.”

Oliver huffed. He did feel.  He felt hot.  And blind.

She pressed her lips to his jawline as her fingers curled around his arm.  “Come on, you can do this for me,” she urged.

Oliver tilted his head down to capture her mouth with his.  She immediately swept her tongue past his lips and let her body melt onto his. Her breasts pushed into his bare chest and Oliver growled, needing his hands more than ever. Because all he wanted to do was touch her everywhere, and kiss her forever, and fuck her hard, and then make sweet, slow love to her, over and over again.

After several long, languid minutes, Felicity pulled away from him and sighed. “Mmm…we should stop all this kissing for now, or we’ll never get to dinner.  And I’m sure you’re starving.”

“You’re right,” he realized, his voice catching from the truth of her words. “I am starving. In so many ways.”

Her fingers traced slowly down his face.  “I know, Oliver. And I plan to fix as many of them as I can.  Now step forward, please. I promise I’ll keep you safe.”

He took a deep breath and nodded. “Lead the way.”

She tugged on his arm again, and this time he followed, although his steps remained cautious. She led him forward several paces, and then turned him and pressed him back a bit, until he could feel the log couch frame against his calves.  “The couch is behind you.  You can sit now.”

“Okay,” he said, lowering himself down.  When he made contact with the soft fabric, his arms pressed into the back of the couch cushions. The twine at his wrist scraped against his lower spine, but he could deal with that for now. For her.

“There you go!” Felicity proclaimed, her triumphant voice coming from above him.  “See?  I didn’t let anything bad happen to you.  Now just sit tight for a minute while I get everything ready.”

Oliver heard her tiny footsteps padding away from him and he frowned and pulled against the rope. It sounded like she’d gone to the kitchen, and he didn’t like her being that far away.  The moment he heard her moving back to him, his hands eased. “Did you bring back our dinner, Felicity? Is it steak?”

“There is steak, as promised.”

“What…what is that sound? What are you doing now?”

“Try to relax, Oliver; I’m just putting the food tray beside you on the couch cushions. And also try not to move around too much, because I don’t want anything to spill.”

“I will do my best to sit still. But where will you be sitting?”

“Right here,” she announced as she placed one of her knees beside his hip and then straddled him, plopping down onto his lap.  “You are going to be my seat for dinner this evening, Mr. Queen.  If that’s okay.”

The tray shifted on the cushion beside them as she settled down, but Oliver barely noticed the sound of the rattling dishes.  Because all he knew was that Frolicking Freebird Felicity was sitting naked, right on top of him, with her soft, shapely bottom pressed into his hard thighs, and it was the most incredible sensation he could ever remember feeling. “Fuck, I love your ass,” he mumbled beneath his breath.

“What was that, Oliver? I didn’t hear you.”

“Nothing…it was nothing.”

Felicity leaned in closer, pressing her face beside his.  He could feel her lips spread into smile against his cheek just before she pulled his earlobe into her teeth.  She bit down a little, and ran her tongue over the indentations she’d made, and then whispered, “Oh, you _have_ to tell me what you said.  Please.”

The goose bumps she’d given him last night returned with a vengeance, flitting down both of his arms and scurrying beneath the rope at his wrists.  Oliver couldn’t help chuckling, because he knew his little forest fairy felt quite empowered right at the moment.  But he also chuckled because he knew that he wasn’t entirely helpless in this situation.  “If you must know, Felicity, my exact words were, ‘Fuck, I love your ass.’”

“Oh. Well, that’s…” She sat back a bit on his lap, resting her hands on his shoulders.  “Really?”

“Yes, really. I think it’s the best ass I’ve ever seen.  It’s definitely the best one I’ve ever had my hands on.  I would like to have my hands on it again.  Right now, if possible.  Actually, if you would be so kind as to let me out of this rope, I will lay you down on this couch and run my hands over every inch of your body.  Then I’ll flip you over onto your stomach, and eat my steak dinner directly off of your backside.  And once I’ve finished eating, and I’ve licked your back clean, I will pay thorough attention to both of your ass cheeks.  I will worship them with my hands and my fingers and my mouth, for as long as you like. After that, I’ll use my tongue, quite exhaustively, to explore you in unmentionable places – unless, of course, you’d like me to mention them.  And, since I’m being brutally honest here, I should probably warn you that I might also bite a little.  But I promise it won’t be too painful; it will be just painful enough to make you come exceptionally hard. Because I am very eager to learn how you will taste, Felicity, when you come in my mouth.”

Oliver stopped talking. He held very still, listening intently to the tiny puffs of air escaping erratically from her throat. He felt her fingertips quiver against his skin, and heard her swallow, and he smiled wickedly. Because Oliver knew that – even blindfolded and with his hands tied behind his back – he could still be in control of some things. 

Felicity shifted against him, spreading her legs farther apart as she squirmed in the aftermath of his words.  When she settled back down onto his lap, Oliver could feel the wet entrance of her sex pressed into his thigh. Heat and need and wild fucking desire shot through his body, and all he could do was clench his teeth and fist his fingers in response.

“I, um…I don’t, uh…” Felicity fumbled, her trembling hands moving down to rest on his chest. “I don’t think that’s, well, none of those things are really, um, in the plans.  At least, not for tonight.”

“Good thing we have a few more days together, then,” he growled.

“Um, yeah. It’s a good thing. It’s such a good thing.” She held her breath for a moment, and then exhaled. “Good Lord, Oliver, you’re just…you’re lethal, aren’t you?”

“Lethal?”

“I mean, with your intoxicating words and your earth-shattering smile and your crazy-sexy voice and your gorgeous, deep blue eyes – which I would really like to see right now – and _no_ , before you even ask, I am not taking the blindfold off yet.  But honestly, I just can’t figure out why you aren’t married.  Because I imagine you could have any woman you want, with all of this…”

Oliver felt her jostling against him and he knew she was motioning to him.  “Just so you know, Felicity, I can’t actually see anything you’re doing.”

“Oh, right. Well, I’m gesturing toward… _all_ of you.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, that’s what I figured.”

“So, then? Why aren’t you?”

“Why aren’t I what?”

“Why aren’t you married? I mean, unless that’s not something you want.  Maybe you just like having a variety of women.  I don’t know, maybe you…”

“No,” he said, interrupting her before she could go any further, because he didn’t want her to think of him that way.  “That’s not me. That hasn’t been me for a long, long time.  I want to do the right thing. I want to find the right woman, and settle down, and get married.  I want the house with the picket fence and the kids and the dog and all of it.”

“You do?”

“Yes. Very much.”

“Then why don’t you already have that?”

He shook his head, back and forth, over and over.  “God, I…I wish I knew.  I guess I just haven’t found the right woman.”

“Oh,” she said, her fingers curling into his chest, right over his heart.  “Well, I’m sure she exists, Oliver.  You just have to keep searching, until you find her. Just keep putting yourself out there, and dating different women, until you know you’ve found the one.”

Oliver tugged against the rope.  “Felicity?”

“Yes?”

“Can we please stop talking about other women?  Because I am quite fixated on one particular woman at the moment, and I would like to keep my focus here, with her.”

Felicity huffed out a laugh. “I’m sorry, Oliver. I shouldn’t be talking about you dating other women while I’m sitting naked on your lap.  My mind, it…it runs away from me sometimes. I just, I want so much for you to be happy.”

He took a deep breath in, filling his lungs with her sweet scent.  “It’s okay.  I appreciate that you want me to be happy, Felicity.  But, I have to say, I am honestly, truly, blissfully happy right at the moment.”

“Yeah? Even with your hands tied?”

“Even with my hands tied.”

Felicity reached out, resting both hands on his shoulders before running them down his arms. Her movement stopped when she came in contact with the couch cushions, and Oliver leaned forward so she could continue petting him.  He rested his chin against her shoulder, enjoying the tickling of her hair against his nose as Felicity ran her fingers across the knots at his wrists before placing her palms inside his.  “How is that rope treating you, Oliver?”

“It’s alright,” he assured, grasping onto her fingers.  He wished he could see her face.  He wished the hazy blur of yellow candlelight flickering behind this scarf would clear, and he would be able to look into her sky blue eyes and see just what she was feeling at this moment.  Because he couldn’t get any sort of handle on the wild emotions coursing through his own veins, so he wished he could have some idea of what was going on inside her.

“You know,” she said, her breath warming his cheek as her fingers laced between his, “after this experience, I’m thinking I should really start carrying rope with me when I travel. I imagine it comes in handy for all sorts of binding emergencies.  It’s probably one of the two handiest things on earth, actually.”

He tried to hold her fingers inside his, but she slipped out of his grasp.  “And what would the other handiest thing on earth be?”

“Silly putty, of course.”

“Silly putty?”

“Absolutely,” she insisted, pulling her hands completely away from his and running her fingers back up his arms to his shoulders.  “What else on earth can you squish between your fingers _and_ copy a cartoon with?”

Oliver’s empty hands fisted against the rope.  “Well, you do make a fine point, Felicity.  But you forget duct tape.  Duct tape is the finest, all-purpose handy thing on earth.”

“Yeah? You’re a duct tape kind of guy?”

“Oh, yes.”

“And what would you do with it, if you had it now?”

“God, I could think of several things.”

“Hmm, I’ll bet you could. You have a really filthy mind. I mean…I didn’t…I meant that in a totally good way.  It’s an _awesomely_ filthy mind.  In fact, I’m thoroughly enjoying your filthy thoughts, Oliver. Like really, really enjoying them.”

He chuckled. “Felicity?”

“Yes?”

“I love talking to you about silly putty and duct tape and filthy thoughts.  I really do.  But you did promise me dinner, right?”

“Oh. Oh, yeah, right. I did.  Sorry.”

Oliver felt her bending over to the side, reaching for the food tray, and he smiled so hard it hurt. He couldn’t believe he actually had to remind her to keep her seduction of him on track.  Felicity shifted against him as she fiddled with something on the tray, and Oliver’s brow arched in curiosity.  “So, am I getting my steak now?”

“In a moment. First, there’s an appetizer.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

Felicity sat up straight on his thighs and then shimmied into a comfortable position.  “Open your mouth for me, Oliver.”

He did as she asked. Not that he wasn’t a little scared. He was actually a little _terrified_ , but he didn’t want it to show. He would trust her, and _feel_ , just like she wanted him to.

When his lips parted, Oliver felt warm a warm, thick liquid drip onto his tongue and his chin. He closed his mouth and tasted. “Chocolate?”

“Mmm-hmm. It’s actually a chocolate fondue. I have strawberries to dip in it, if you like.  Although, I have other plans for the strawberries, for later.”

Oliver smiled. “It’s okay; I don’t want strawberries right now.  I want more chocolate.”

“Oh, alright. Just open up your mouth again.”

He shook his head. “No.  Not that way, Felicity.  I want to eat the chocolate off of you.”

“Off of _me_?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Which, um, which part of me?”

“I literally do not care in the slightest.  I just want to lick it off of some part of your body, so I can taste your skin on my tongue. Because, as good as this chocolate is, I know you will taste even better.”

Oliver heard her gasp, and felt her wriggle on his lap, and he knew, if he could look into her eyes, that her sky blue would appear nearly black from the dilatation of her pupils.

“Oliver, I don’t…I don’t know which part of me to offer you.  I can probably imagine a thousand places where I would want you to lick me. Except…do I even have a thousand places on my body?  I guess I do, if we count skin pores, or maybe individual hair follicles.  God, I don’t even know what I’m saying right now. You just…you turn my brain to mush sometimes, and I…”

“ _Felicity_.  I want to lick all of the thousand places on your body, but for now, why don’t you just put the chocolate on your fingers?  I think that might be a good place to start.”

“Oh. Okay, yes.  I can do that.”

He felt her movement, and he heard the breaths entering and exiting her chest, as he waited impatiently. When he felt her hand come toward his lips, he smiled and opened his mouth.

“Here you go,” she offered, placing one finger against his tongue. 

Oliver took the offering. He sucked the chocolate off of her, getting rid of the unnecessary flavor, and then swirled his tongue around her finger.  He could smell the fresh soap on her skin, and he could taste just a little saltiness beneath the lingering chocolate.  But mostly he could feel her warmth and her softness in his mouth, at the same time he felt the wet heat of her sex against his thighs. 

After several moments he pulled back, letting her finger leave his mouth with a little popping sound. But he didn’t let her go far. He pressed his face into her hand, trailing his tongue down her finger and into her palm.  And then he kissed her there, and licked her, and just buried his face in her skin.

Oliver knew Felicity enjoyed what he was doing; he could tell by the way she wriggled and groaned and panted.  But then she started giggling, rather wildly, and her entire body shook on top of his. Oliver eased away, just a little, as his brow furrowed.  “What is so funny?”

“Oh, it’s silly, it’s just…” She paused to laugh a bit more, and then said, “I just realized that I have Oliver Queen eating out of my hand right now.”

He froze for a second, because she had no idea just how true that statement was.  “Yes, you do,” he agreed, and then pressed his lips back into her palm, kissing and nipping at her skin again and again. When he finally raised his face back to hers, he tried like hell to see her through the blinding scarf. He desperately wanted to see her sky blue eyes as they gazed at him, but all he could visualize was a hazy blur of yellow.  That distorted sight made her feel way too far away and unreachable, and made him thirsty and hungry and achy all over.  “I want more, Felicity. Please.  More chocolate, more skin.”

“You do?”

“God, yes. I do.”

“Hmm…well, you can’t have it.”

One eyebrow arched above his blindfold.  “No? Why not?”

She leaned in and placed a soft kiss to his lips.  “Because. Life’s not all chocolate, Oliver,” she explained, and then reached for the tray again.  He heard the dishes clank a bit and then felt her resituate herself on his lap.  “Now, open your mouth for me again, please.”

Oliver squeezed his hands together behind the couch, because he was a bit more frightened this time. But he still did as she asked. The next liquid she dropped on his tongue was thin and tart and pungent and sour as hell.  He smacked his lips together and grimaced. “Seriously?  More lemons?”

She giggled. “Yup.  Chocolate and lemons…best combination in the world.”

“Felicity, this is hideous.” He swallowed, attempting to cleanse his palate of the flavors.  This was like wanting soda and getting milk.  Or wanting lobster and getting Brussels sprouts.  “What is it with you and lemons?”

“Oh my gosh, I love lemons! They have to be the cutest of all the fruits.  And yes, that includes the little clementine oranges, which are also adorable. But I like lemons better because they’re so bright and happy looking, and yet, once you open them up, they have this exciting sour little kick that just takes you off guard.”

“Hmm. Well, I can honestly say that I have never given that much thought to fruit before.  But it still doesn’t make the taste of chocolate and lemon go together in any way, shape, or form.”

“Oh, it can’t be _that_ bad.” Felicity traced her hand down his face, stopping when she reached his chin.  “You have a little something right here, by the way,” she whispered, and then bent forward to lick a drop of chocolate off of his stubble. Her tongue was warm and wet and soft on his face and he smiled.  “Mmm…I think this tastes quite good, actually.”

“That’s because you only got the chocolate part,” he complained, although is was only half-hearted, because the feel of her warm body pressed to his thighs and his chest, and the warm wetness of her tongue on his skin, had most of his concentration focused on the huge erection wedged between his stomach and hers. 

“You know, you’re right. I need to eat the lemon, too.”

He heard a soft sucking noise and then felt a shiver run the length of her. 

_Shit, did she just suck right out of a lemon?_

“Kiss me, Oliver,” she begged, her tart breath tickling his nose.

_Yes, she just sucked right out of a lemon._

Still, he didn’t hesitate. If she wanted him to kiss her, he was damn well going to fucking kiss her, and he didn’t care about anything else. The moment his lips touched hers, Felicity slipped her tongue into his mouth.  Oliver inhaled swiftly as the tart flavor assaulted his taste buds, but he only noticed it for a second.  Because she settled further onto his chest, soft and warm and pliant, and he could feel her everywhere. 

He pulled against the ropes that restrained him, hating that he could only touch her passively. His mouth was currently his only weapon, so he used it.  He deepened the kiss with slow, perfect deliberation, enticing her to melt even further into him. His mind took leave of his body as his heart thudded against his ribcage, as each and every one of his nerve endings came alive beneath her body.

When Felicity pulled away, he nearly screamed for her to come back.  The only satisfaction he had now was the quaver in her voice. “Uh, O-Oliver, um…that will…that will be enough of that.  You still haven’t had your dinner.” 

 _I don’t fucking care_ , he thought, but he didn’t dare say it out loud. He knew she wanted to feed him, and to seduce him, and to have him at her mercy, and he wanted to give her that experience.  Even if it killed him. Which it might.

Her backside wiggled against his thighs as she turned back to the tray beside them once again. Oliver heard the drag of a fork against a plate.  “Smell this,” she encouraged when she returned.

He breathed in, absorbing the scent right below his nose.  “That is my steak, I believe.”

“Not just steak, Oliver – the choicest cut filet mignon.  It’s phenomenal.  I had the chef prepare it just for you.”  She slipped the piece past his lips and Oliver bit down on it, savoring the incredible flavor that burst on his tongue as he chewed and swallowed.

“Damn, that is good, Felicity.”

“Oh, wonderful. I was hoping you would say that.”

“So…you know the chef here at Blue?”

“I do. After I saw Pete today, I went to see him. His name’s Phil.”

“And how long have you known Phil?”

Felicity pushed another bite of steak into his mouth.  “A while. I like to know people. I always have.”

Oliver chewed on the meat, and on her words.  “So, you’re one of those gregarious extroverts, I take it.”

“Actually, I’m not, really. I was pretty introverted growing up. I discovered early on that I prefer to know people on a more one-on-one basis, because I want to know what makes them tick. A personality is like a mystery for me, and I think all mysteries should be solved.  I like to dig in deep to see what I can find.”

Oliver smiled as he swallowed, because he knew how far she’d already dug into him. “I would venture to guess that you’re exceptionally good at uncovering people’s mysteries.”

She laughed, and it was a bright, sparkling sound to his ears.  “I daresay I am good at it, most of the time.  But _you_ are still a bit of a mystery to me.”

“Really? You mean you don’t already know everything about me?  Because sometimes it feels like you know more about me than I do.”

Felicity placed another bite of meat on his tongue.  “I know a few things about you.  But there’s just so much more to know.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Like the thing that happened to you…the thing that changed your life.”

Oliver stiffened beneath her as he gulped the last bite of steak down.  “I don’t…I don’t know what you mean.”

She leaned closer, her body warming his as her hand drifted onto his heart.  “Yes, you do know, Oliver.  It happened when you were a teenager.  I’m pretty sure it’s the reason you stopped playing football after high school. It’s the reason you transformed from a wild party boy who pees on police cars into a staunch, stuffy executive with fierce control issues and a penchant for planning.” 

“I’m not stuffy,” he insisted, needing to divert this conversation to something more palatable. “But I am thirsty. Do you have anything for me to drink?”

Felicity sighed and then reached to the tray.  “I do. I have some red wine. I know you don’t care for alcohol, but is a little wine okay?”

“Yes, it’s fine.”

She brought the glass to his lips.  “Drink, Oliver.”

He did as she instructed. He took deep, quenching gulps, as Felicity tipped the cup farther toward him.  When he’d finished the glass, he licked the liquid off of his lips. “Thank you for that.”

“Of course,” she said, replacing the glass on the tray and then replacing her hand on his heart. “I want to give you what you need.”

Oliver sucked in a deep breath, because he understood that desire.  “I know you do, Felicity.  I just…I don’t know that I want you to unravel every mystery inside me.”

“Why not?”

“Because. Just…because.”

“Hmm. Well, I suppose I could always fill in the gaps with my imagination.  I actually have a very active imagination.”

He couldn’t help chuckling at that statement.  “I can tell that you do.”

“I like imagining things about you, Oliver.”

“Yeah? Why is that?”

“Because I find you so interesting, so unexpected.  I find you quite colorful, actually.”

“Colorful? You find me _colorful_?”

“Yes. Why do you sound surprised?”

“I don’t know; I just don’t really think my life lends itself to much color.”

Felicity moved her fingers up from his chest to his shoulder, tracing across his collarbone as she shifted her legs against his hips.  “Oh, I think it does.  One color in particular, actually.”

“And what color is that?”

“Green.”

His brow arched. “ _Green?_ ” he echoed, because there was a hell of a lot green up here, surrounding these cabins, and he didn’t really feel like a part of any of it.

“Yes. Just like the evergreen trees right outside,” she explained, and Oliver wondered if she’d read his mind. “You’re a forest’s green, Oliver – profound, and lush, and full of life.  And you’re a hunter’s green – skillful, and intelligent, and predatory, when necessary.”

She reached up to run her fingers across his cheek and Oliver absorbed her touch at the same time that he absorbed her words.  He loved how she saw him.  He loved who he could be when he was with her. 

He smiled then, because he liked this little game of hers, and knew he could play along. “You know, I have a color in mind for you, too, Felicity,” he said, thinking about the little red leaf in her hair, and about laying her down in red bed sheets.

“Yeah? What color do you see for me?”

“Red.”

Felicity’s breath caught in her throat.  Her hands dropped back to his shoulders and she squeezed hard to his skin.  “ _Red?_ Oh, _no_. No, no.  _Please_ …not red, Oliver. Red is a _horrible_ color.  It’s angry. It’s angry and it’s violent and it’s blood.  And I hate the sight of blood.”

Oliver stilled beneath her, not understanding the strength or origin of her reaction. He only knew that she’d turned to stone above him, and that fear radiated off of her skin.  He pulled hard on the binds of the rope, needing desperately to reach out to her, to touch her, to hold her.

“Will you pick a different color for me, Oliver?  Please? _Please?_ ”

He could feel her trembling against him and part of him wanted to give in, and just do as she asked. But he knew he couldn’t. Because somehow he knew that wouldn’t do her any good.  So he shook his head. “No, Felicity. Your color is red. But I need you to hear me out…because you’re not seeing it the way I do.”

She inhaled deeply, and he knew she was trying to steady herself.  She counted backwards beneath her breath, “3…2…1…” and then she exhaled, and settled down onto him once again.  “Okay, Oliver. I’m listening.”

He tried to see her through the blindfold, tried to concentrate on the shape of her face haloed by the flickering glow of candlelight behind her.  “Your color is red, Felicity, because red is deep, and vibrant, and promising.  It’s the color of fires – fires that burn you right down inside your soul. And it’s the color of your heart, pumping blood through your veins to keep you alive.  And it’s the color of the morning sky – that glorious, gorgeous red that tells you, in no uncertain terms, that the sun is going to come out, and it’s going to fill your life with such warmth and such joy, if you just stand still for a moment, and open yourself up to let it in.”

Oliver held his breath when he finished.  He sat as quietly as he could, because he didn’t know what she would say or do. He held his breath and waited…and then he heard her sniffle, and he felt a drop of wetness fall onto his chest. “Felicity?  Are you okay?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

God, he hated not being able to see her right now, so he leaned forward and pressed his cheek beside hers, in order to verify what he thought he knew.  The tears on her skin wet his face and he sighed.  “You’re not okay.  You’re crying.”

“Yes, I am crying.”

Oliver straightened, pulling hard against the goddamn fucking rope that prevented him from touching her. “Felicity, please don’t cry. I can’t stand that you’re crying, especially when I can’t even hold you.”

She reached out, running her hand across his cheek to wipe her tears off of his skin. “It’s okay.  It’s a good kind of crying.”

“Is there such a thing?”

“Oh, yes. They’re definitely happy tears.” She inched closer to him, pressing her chest to his as she placed soft little kisses to his lips, over and over. Oliver still felt the wetness on her cheek, and tasted the salt on her skin, but he loved having her close to him again.

“You just did the most amazing thing, Oliver.  It might be the most amazing thing anyone has ever done for me.”

“What did I do?”

“You gave me back a color,” she breathed, the tone of her voice awed as she smiled against his lips. “It’s not every day of your life that you get a color back.  It’s an incredible day; it’s an incredible thing.  And I’m so grateful for it.  I’m so grateful for you.”

He shook his head beneath the scarf, because he couldn’t actually believe that  _she_ felt grateful for _him_. “I’m grateful for you, too. You have to know that. Please know that.”

“I know,” Felicity assured as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her legs against his thighs. “I love being this close to you.”

He sought out her mouth again, savoring the lemony taste that still lingered on her tongue, and whispered against her lips, “God, I love it, too.”

Felicity pushed farther into him, her breasts crushed to his chest as her fingers wound into his hair. She arched her hips forward, pinning his stiff erection between their stomachs.  “Please let me be closer to you, Oliver.  I want to be closer.”

He felt her grasping onto him with her entire body, holding him in every possible way, and he pressed his eyes shut tight behind the blindfold.  Oliver wasn’t sure what she meant by being closer; he only knew he wanted whatever she wanted.  “I want you to be closer,” he breathed, his mouth finding hers again and again.

Felicity panted between his kisses.  “Then tell me, Oliver, please.  I want to know. I want to know so badly.”

Oliver blinked in the darkness, trying to understand her words.  “Wh-what do you want to know?”

She pressed her forehead against his as air fell in little pants from her lips.  “I want to know what this thing is that happened to you…this thing that changed your life.” 

Oliver stiffened, lifting his head from hers, trying to put some distance between them. 

But Felicity didn’t stop. “I can just picture you, back in high school.  So young, so beautiful, so gloriously alive.  I can picture you playing your football, and excelling, and challenging everyone around you. I see you being so driven, like you are now, but also being lively and excited and adventurous. I see you smiling and laughing and just making the most of your life.”  She smoothed her fingers from his hair down to his jaw, and held his face still within her hands.  “I can still see that person inside of you, here and now.  You let him out every once in a while, and I see him.  And I want to know, I _have_ to know, what made you lock him away, so deep inside.”

“Felicity, I just, I don’t…”

“You don’t have to tell me tonight. In fact, I think it’s best that you don’t tell me tonight.  But I would like to ask you for a promise.”

Oliver cringed with those words.  Because he knew he’d asked her for a promise last night.  He’d asked her to promise not to lie to him anymore, and she’d agreed. And he knew she’d kept that promise, every moment since.  “What promise do you want from me?”

“I want you to promise me that, at some point before we leave this mountain, you will share this with me. I want you to promise that you will tell me about this turning point in your life.  Because I want to know, so badly.  I want you to let me in, to let me see inside you. Will you give me that much, Oliver? Will you promise me that?”

He took a shaky breath in, and then shook his head, because he knew what he should say. He should say no. He should push her away. He should _force_ her away. 

But he just couldn’t. He couldn’t bear to even consider being up here on this mountain without her, and he couldn’t risk her turning away from him.  So he said, “Yes, I promise,” and then he waited for his chest to explode from the pressure inside it. But she was there, with her body pressed up against his, and she held him together. 

“Oh, thank you,” she sighed against his lips, her entire body relaxing into him, just before she eased her mouth onto his once again. 

Felicity’s kiss was eager, but it was also still timid, and Oliver couldn’t let it go on that way. So he took over, claiming her the only way he was currently capable of.  He kissed her as hard as he could, winding his tongue against hers as he teased her and tantalized her and lured her to him and then drank her in. 

She just melted against him, so willingly, her body falling onto his as she moaned into his mouth. Oliver pushed even closer to her as Felicity wrapped her arms tighter around his neck and threaded her fingers into his hair, grasping desperately to him while her hips rocked against his thighs. The harder he kissed her, the more she picked up the pace of her movements, bucking into his lap as his erection strained against the softness of her stomach. 

Then Oliver pulled his mouth away from hers, which took more effort than anything he could ever recall, and he gasped for air.  “Felicity. I need to be inside you. Please.”

“Mmm…wh-what?”

“I need to fuck you. Please.  Just let me be inside you.”

Her fingers tightened in his hair.  “But, but I…”

“Felicity, _please_.”

“But, wait. I have…I have so many other plans for us tonight.”

“God, what plans?”

“Well, I was going to feed you some more steak.  And then I had dessert all ready for us.  It’s strawberries and whipped cream, and I was going to do some, well, some very filthy things with the whipped cream.  I was going to smear it all over you, and lick it off, all the way down your chest to your…to your cock, and then I was going to take you in my mouth and suck on you until you were completely satisfied, and…”

“ _Felicity_.  Stop. Just stop talking. I need to be inside you. Now.”

“But…don’t you want any of that?”

“I fucking want all of that. But not tonight. Not now.  Right now I need you the way I need you.  Just promise me that we can do all of those things another time.”

She smiled against his lips. “I promise, Oliver.”

“Good. Now just lift your hips toward me and let me fuck you.”

“Uh…um…”

“Felicity. _Now_.”

She straightened on his lap, bringing her hands to his shoulders.  “No.”

“ _What?_ ”

Her fingers traced a path down his arms then, stopping just shy of the rope tied to his wrists. The rope he was pulling so hard against that he could very well be bleeding on the couch cushions. “No, Oliver.  You’re not in control tonight, remember?”

She smoothed over the twine at his wrists, and he sighed.  “But, Felicity…”

“You’re taking control right now.  And I understand that it’s your way, but tonight isn’t about that.  Tonight is about feeling.  I want you to let me be in control, and I want you to _feel_.”

“Yes, I understand that tonight is about me giving up control.  I get that. But I don’t think you understand how much I need you right now.”

“I do understand, because I need you just as much.  And I’m going to do what you want me to do; I promise I am.  But I’m going to do it my way, and I want you to let me.”

 _Damn it!  Fuck! Shit!  God Bless America!_   “Alright. _Fine_.”

“ _Oliver_.”

He exhaled heavily and released his strain on the rope.  “Okay, Felicity, okay.  I’ll let you do anything you want.  You already know that, right? Good Lord, if you didn’t know before tonight, you must know now.  I’m at your mercy.  I will give you anything you want.”

“Well, that’s…wow. I actually did _not_ know that,” she said, placing both hands on his shoulders and grasping tight to him as she shifted her hips up off of his thighs. “But now I do.”

Felicity reached down between them, taking his hot, aching erection into one hand and lining it up with the soaking wet entrance of her sex.  Then she returned her hand to his shoulder and steadied herself above him. “You ready, Oliver?”

“Yes. _Yes_.”

She sunk down on him, slowly and steadily, her slick flesh sliding against his and squeezing around him as she took her sweet time to join them fully.

 _Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck_.

Once she’d lowered herself all the way down, her fingers gripped onto his skin and a harsh moan left her throat. 

Oliver’s hands balled up, because he wasn’t sure if that was a good moan or a bad moan, and he hated that he couldn’t read the answer in her eyes.  “Felicity? That wasn’t a sound of pain, was it?”

She brought the side of her face to rest against his.  “Oh, no,” she hummed beside his ear.  “It’s just that you’re very big.  Although, I’m sure you’re aware of that.  You’re just so big, and so hard, and I love that first moment you slide inside me, and fill me up so completely, and…”

“Stop, please. I need you to stop talking.”

Her fingers gripped tighter to his shoulders as she pulled away just a little bit.  “Don’t you like my voice, Oliver?”

“ _What?_ ”

“It’s just…last night you said you liked it, but in the past few minutes you’ve asked me to stop talking twice.”

He blew out a harsh breath. “Felicity, I fucking _love_ your voice.  I love it too much.  I could listen to your voice all day.  It’s just a little difficult to hear you talk and still maintain my restraint.”

“Oh,” she said. Then she raised herself up, allowing him to slide almost entirely out of her, before she sank back down again. “I didn’t realize you loved my voice that much.  I thought what you really loved was my ass.”

She repeated the movement, gliding up and down his shaft.  Oliver had to unclench his jaw to speak.  “I love your ass, too.”

“Mmm,” she murmured, her hot, wet sheath tightening around him as she sunk all the way down.

Oliver groaned deep in his throat and his next words came out in a blissful, heated rush. “I meant everything I said to you last night, Felicity.  I love your voice, and your thoughts, and your touch.  And yes, I love your ass, too.  But there’s so much more.  I love your eyes and your smile. I love your mind and your strength. I love your warmth and your heart. I just…I love everything about you.”

She stopped moving. Felicity froze in place on top of him, and Oliver stilled beneath her.

_Damn it.  I went too far._

He twisted his fingers against the rope, wondering if she was going to bolt away now. Wondering if she would just leave him here, bound and helpless.  But then Felicity brought her mouth to his, and pressed a kiss to his lips, and said, “I love everything about you, too, Oliver.”

The sound of those words rang through his entire body before settling firmly inside his chest. He didn’t respond to her, because he couldn’t.  Because he was speechless, and because speech wasn’t necessary.

Felicity began moving again. Up and down, raising her hips slowly off of his thighs before sinking onto him once again.  She repeated the movement over and over and over, riding him eagerly yet smoothly as her fingers clung to his shoulders and her breaths came rapid and quick to her lips. 

When she pressed her mouth to his, Oliver kissed her for all he was worth.  He tasted her warmth and sucked on her tongue and pulled her lip between his teeth, trying to be as close to her as he possibly could be. But, as much as he loved kissing her, and being ridden by her, the need to touch her overwhelmed him. It turned into a longing that grew into a desire that morphed into a frenzied, hungered craving that clawed at his insides. And he just couldn’t do this anymore. “ _Untie me_ ,” he growled.  “You _have_ to untie me. _Now_.”

Felicity slowed her movements, and then pressed her mouth softly to his.  “No,” she whispered.  “Not yet.”

“Good God, _please_ ,” he begged, lifting his hips off the couch to push up into her.

“Easy, Oliver. Easy.”  Her fingers traced down his arms and over the ropes, and she nuzzled her nose beside his.  “Let me do the work tonight.  Just feel. Just _feel_.”

“Felicity, I can’t feel any more than I already do.  Please just…go faster.”

She held still for a long moment, and then drew her hands back up to his shoulders and held tight. “Okay,” she said, and he felt her lift back up and then down again.  Slowly at first.  Deliberately. But then she picked up her pace.

She moved her body quicker and quicker, filling herself with him over and over again.  She sighed every time she came flush with his body, every time her ass landed against his thighs.  The sound of flesh hitting flesh filled his ears.   The sensation of her hot, wet sex tightening around him drove him to near madness.  Her sighs turned to moans and then escalated to screams, and Oliver grit his teeth together, trying to hold out for as long as he could. 

All he could hear was her – all he _wanted_ to hear was her – so he missed the rattling of glass and silverware warning him that the dinner tray was headed off the side of the couch.  When it fell to floor, the dishes made a huge crashing sound as they broke into bits and pieces.  Oliver honestly didn’t give a shit.  Unfortunately, Felicity did. 

“ _Oh_ ,” she breathed, suddenly stilling all of her movements, “Oh, _no_ …”

“Leave it, Felicity.”

“But, Oliver, I forgot to…”

“Baby, just leave it. Stay with me.  Keep fucking me.  I need you to come.  I need to feel you come apart around me.”

Her hips bucked with his words.  “God, please say that again.”

“Which part?”

“Any of it. All of it.  Especially the _baby_ part.”

He leaned forward, capturing her mouth with his for one sweet second.  “I need you to fuck me, baby,” he growled against her lips. “I need you to come for me, please.”

Felicity gasped as she restarted her movements.  She pressed into him again and again, impaling herself on his rock hard thickness over and over.  “Oh my God, you feel so good, Oliver.  I just…I feel you _everywhere_.”

He strained against the ropes. “I know.  Move faster for me now. Faster and harder.”

Felicity did exactly as instructed.  She whimpered and moaned and panted as she increased her pace, her fingernails clawing into his skin as the flesh of her ass pounded against his thighs.  “Oh…oh… _oh_ …” she groaned, and Oliver nearly bit through his tongue. 

Then she came. She came hard, crying out her release as she grasped onto his body with her arms and her hands and her fingers and her thighs and her tight, aching, throbbing sex.  Oliver didn’t last another second.  He growled as he joined her, emptying himself into her burning hot, soaking wet, perfect sheath. 

Felicity continued to move, although disjointedly, milking his erection as she panted beside his ear.

“Fuck, baby, that’s so good,” he breathed, his orgasm going on and on while she tightened her inner muscles around him.  For a minute, he thought he might never stop coming.  But then she just collapsed, her head lolling onto his shoulder and her breasts heaving against his chest, as she worked to fill her lungs with air.

Her body shaped itself to his, but her arms still held tight to his shoulders, working hard to bind him to her, and Oliver understood exactly how she felt.  “I’m here.  I’m right here with you,” he whispered beside her ear, waiting patiently until she sighed and released her clinging hold on him.  Then Oliver turned his face to press his lips into her hair. “God, Felicity, you’re remarkable.”

She giggled, puffing out little breaths against his neck.  “Thank you for remarking on it.”

He closed his eyes, letting his face sink into her gold curls as he settled against the couch cushion and allowed himself to simply feel her.  To feel her softness.  To feel her warmth.  To feel the joy and peace that radiated off of her skin. 

Oliver tried to absorb it all, to absorb all of her and hold it all against him, but he couldn’t. Because he still couldn’t touch her with his hands or see her with his eyes.  And it was killing him now, more than it had all night. His heart and soul ached with the need to hold her, and to look into her sky blue and witness everything inside her.

Somehow, she knew. Somehow, Felicity understood. Maybe she had some sort of sixth sense. Or maybe she could actually feel the pain in his chest as she lay against him.  Oliver didn’t know how; he only knew that her hands drifted down to his wrists, to untie the binding he could no longer cope with.

He leaned forward slightly, maintaining her position against his chest while giving her better access to the rope. Felicity pulled lazily against the knots she’d so diligently tied, and it took her forever to get the binding undone. Okay, maybe it wasn’t _forever_.  But it felt like it was.

The instant the rope came loose, the very second Oliver could get his hands out, he reached for her and wrapped her so tight in his arms that he pushed the air from her lungs. He held onto her so hard that he actually feared he might hurt her.  But then she giggled, and he felt her smile into his neck, and he sighed in relief.

The next moment, he ripped the scarf off of his face and threw it to the ground. He blinked his eyes, adjusting his vision to the flickering candlelight that was still far brighter than what he’d been used to throughout the night.  And then he returned his hand to Felicity’s back and pulled her close to him as he shifted up off of the couch.

Oliver stood with his little fairy still attached to him.  Then he pivoted, laid her down against the cushions, and covered her body with his own, all in one smooth motion.  Once he had her beneath him, he grabbed her face in both hands and stared down into her. 

Felicity gazed up at him with a soft, satiated smile.  Her eyes were glossed and gleaming.  Her cheeks were flushed and rosy.  Her gold curls were tussled and unruly.  And her body was so soft in all the right places, like a Felicity-shaped pillow made just for him.  He couldn’t believe he’d had her twice now and yet this was the first time he’d felt her lying beneath him. Especially since he would be perfectly happy never leaving this spot again. 

He stared into her eyes, seeing that same drunk pleasure that she’d had on the countertop last night, and her smile was easy and joyful and so goddamn beautiful that it hurt like hell. Oliver worked to move his lungs, to just get air in and out of his chest, as she stole his breath with nothing but that smile.  And then he pressed his lips to hers, just because he could.

“Hmm,” she hummed against his mouth.  “Thank you, Oliver.”

He eased back to look into her and his brow furrowed.  “For what?”

“For everything.”

Her whispered words brushed across his skin and he shook his head.  “I have to admit, I feel a little shell-shocked right now. What exactly was all of this tonight, Felicity?  The blindfold? The rope?  Where did this come from?” 

She shrugged her shoulders beneath him.  “I don’t know. It was you, I think. When I’m with you, I just feel…free.” She nibbled against her lip as she peered up at him.  “Is that okay?”

Oliver looked into her trusting eyes and his pulse sputtered.  “God, yes, it’s okay.  You can be whatever you want to be when you’re with me.”  He ran his hand into her hair, holding her even steadier.  “You know that, right?  You know you can be completely free with me, don’t you?  Because I’m here, Felicity.  I’m right here with you.”

Tears sprung to the corners of her eyes and she gave him a tremulous smile. 

He moved his hand back to her face the moment the first tear fell, tracing its path with his fingertips. “These tears…why so many tears tonight?”

She blinked as she looked up to him.  “I told you, Oliver. They’re happy tears.”

He nodded, even though he wasn’t sure how true it was.  Tears were tears.  They hurt. And he couldn’t stand to see her cry.

Felicity’s hands moved to his shoulders and then traced downward, until she could latch her fingers around his forearms.  “Will you come with me to the woods again in the morning?” she asked, her eyes pleading as they looked into his.  “I want to look at the red things.  I want to see all the colors again.  To see them and to appreciate them.”

“Of course I’ll come with you.”

“Good,” she said, her voice catching as another tear ran down her cheek.  “I’ve been trying to like red again, you know. I paint my nails red from time to time and I drink red wine.  And for the past few days, I’ve been staring at that little red leaf – the one that wound its way into my hair when we were in the forest.  I wanted so badly to see the beauty in that leaf, Oliver. To see the beauty in the color red. But I couldn’t.”

She paused for a moment, and took a shaky breath in before she continued.  “And then, tonight, you just…you said a few words to me. A few of the most beautiful words I’ve ever heard.  And, all of a sudden, I had the color red back again.” 

She uncurled one hand from his arm to reach up and run her fingers over his face.  She gazed into his eyes, and the look on her face was no less than sheer, utter adoration.  “My Oliver is a poet.”

He wrapped both arms around her back then, tightening his hold on her, because she said _my_ Oliver, and he knew it was true.  This person he was, right here and now, belonged to her. He’d never been this person before her, and he didn’t know if he could ever be this person again after her. He only knew that he was ecstatically happy, right this minute, because he’d given her back the color red.

He just wished it had never left her to begin with.

Smoothing one hand up her back, he reached into her hair and grounded her to him.  He studied her eyes, and tried to look as far inside of her as he could. “What happened to you, Felicity?” he asked, keeping his voice as low and calm as possible.  “What happened to take the color red away from you?”

She stiffened immediately. All of her muscles hardened beneath him, and then trembled and shivered.  He watched in dread as her head shook back and forth and the tears returned, quick and fast, to her eyes.

“Oh, no, shh…” he soothed, running his fingers onto her cheeks and across her trembling lips. He pressed his mouth to hers over and over again.  “Shh, Felicity, baby…it’s okay.” 

Oliver rubbed his nose beside hers and dropped tiny kisses to her lips, listening intently as she took ragged breaths into her lungs.  “You don’t have to tell me.  I don’t want you to hurt. Just please don’t cry. I never want to make you cry.”

She inhaled and exhaled then, a bit slower and steadier, as she brushed her fingers across his jaw. “It’s okay, Oliver. Sometimes you need to cry.”

He pulled back to look into her eyes and watched her beautiful pink lips form a smile for him. Oliver knew he couldn’t push her, but there was one thing he had to know.  “Felicity, you don’t have to tell me what happened to you right now, but…” He stopped talking and swallowed hard against the pressure in his chest, his mind creating so many violent scenes that could have made her hate the sight of blood.  “I need to know if you were physically hurt. Can you just tell me yes or no? Please?”

She watched him carefully for a long minute as she blinked back the tears.  “No, I wasn’t physically hurt.”

He nodded, and a little of the tension left his shoulders.  “And mentally?  What about mentally?”

Felicity kept her gaze on him while she nibbled on her lip, and he felt her hand curl tighter to his forearm. “Mentally…I’m working out a few issues, Oliver.”

He exhaled and closed his eyes, letting all the kempt air leave his body.  “Okay,” he said, because he could accept that answer. She was being honest with him, and she’d just admitted that she needed help, and that was enough for now.

“But I hope you know,” her voice returned, drawing his gaze back to hers, “that I am not mentally ill. I am just…I’m just trying to deal with some things.”

Oliver smiled softly as he looked down at her.  “I know. I know you’re not mentally ill.”

“Do you know that?”

“Yes, I do.”

She huffed out a laugh. “Really?  Because I’m pretty sure that first time you met me, by the side of the road, you thought I was mentally unstable.”

Oliver cringed, remembering just how stressful that moment was, for so many reasons. “Was it that obvious, what I was thinking?”

“It was a bit obvious, yes.”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry.  I’m sorry I questioned your sanity at first.” He looked down to her face and ran his fingers across her cheek, reveling in the soft warmth of her skin beneath his fingertips.  And he remembered how much he’d wanted to touch her, from the first moment he saw her, and why he’d thought he would never get the chance.  He remembered those first moments all too well, and now they brought a smile to his face.  “You know, in my defense, Felicity, you did do an angry bird impression, followed swiftly by a chicken dance.”

Felicity giggled. “Well, in _my_ defense, Oliver, I was trying really, really hard to get you to laugh. Because you looked like you hadn’t truly laughed in years.”

Oliver sucked in a deep breath and shook his head.  “I probably hadn’t.”

She reached up to smooth her hand across his jaw.  “I love it when you laugh.”

“I love it when you laugh with me, baby.”

Her entire face broke into a grin as bright as sunshine.  “I love it when you call me baby.”

Oliver bent down to press a quick kiss to her lips.  “Then I’ll keep doing it.  _Baby_.”

Felicity laughed with sheer joy and Oliver pulled back to see her, to just look at her, because he hadn’t gotten the chance all night and he’d missed it so badly. He’d missed seeing the blue of her eyes and the gold of her hair and the pink of her lips.  He wanted to see all of her colors.  Each and every one.

Oliver watched while Felicity explored his face with her fingers, touching his forehead and his cheek and his mouth as she studied the movement intently.  Then she eased her fingers across his lips and said, “You’ve been so good tonight, with letting me be in control.  So, now I’ll give it back to you.  I’m going to leave the rest of the evening up to you, Oliver. What would you like to do with it?”

Her fingers still caressed his mouth, so Oliver nipped at her fingertips and watched as she giggled again. She looked so happy, and so innocent, and so beautiful, and his heart clenched inside his chest. “Honestly, I think I just want to lay here with you, and touch you, and kiss you.  How does that sound?”

Her blue eyes sparkled as she gazed up at him.  “That sounds pretty darn incredible.”

“It does,” he agreed. And then he smiled all the way to her mouth.

 ...

 **A/N:**  Hi there!  Thanks so much for reading!  As always, I would love to hear your thoughts :) Tina

Up next...Chapter 8:  Vulnerability

 


	8. Vulnerability

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Sweethearts! Thank you so much to everyone who sent me such positive thoughts and comments after the last chapter; I can't even express how much I appreciate it. As for this chapter, I should probably warn you that it goes pretty dark. It touches on several things that could be "triggers" for some, and I definitely don't want to do anyone any harm, so please be aware that the angst level is high. It was an extremely challenging chapter to write, and I just hope that I did it justice, both for the characters and for you :)

Oliver sat on the porch steps of his cabin, looking out into the surrounding trees. The evergreens seemed darker this early in the morning, without the full sunlight shining on them, but they were still beautiful.  Oliver understood that everything was beautiful at Blue, but he wasn’t sitting here right now because he wanted to see nature.  He only wanted to see Felicity.

 _It’s probably best that you sleep in your own bed, so you can get some rest_.

Those were the words she’d said to him last night, just before she planted a kiss on his lips and then scooted him out of her cabin door.  At the time, Oliver didn’t protest.  A lot had happened between them over the course of the evening, and they both needed time to process.  But that still didn’t make it any easier to be without her when he opened his eyes. He hadn’t stayed in his lonely bed for a single second longer after he woke.  He’d just leapt up, and dressed quickly, and made his way outside to wait for her.

Felicity wanted to go to the woods today, to see the colors.  _To see them and to appreciate them_ …that’s what she’d told him.  Oliver knew she wanted to see all the colors, but she especially wanted to see red. Because he’d given red back to her last night, and he loved that he’d been able to change her life for the better.

As he sat on the cold porch stairs, Oliver pressed his fingers over his eyelids.  He swore he could still feel Felicity’s skin against his. He could still smell her sweet scent. He could still feel the warmth of her body and of her heart.  And all he wanted was to have his hands on her again, to have her with him in every possible way.

The strength of his desire overwhelmed him, and Oliver shook his head, because nothing about this made sense. His pull to her was so strong – his ache for her so potent – that it couldn’t be normal.  Good God, he’d been so caught up in her last night that he’d told her he loved everything about her.  He’d told her that he was at her mercy.  He’d told her that he would do anything for her.  And, at the time, he’d meant every little bit of it. 

The problem wasn’t that Oliver had confessed preposterous things to Felicity in the heat of passion. After all, everyone knew passion-induced declarations weren’t often based in reality.  No, the problem wasn’t that he’d _said_ them. The problem was that even now, in the cold light of day, Oliver still meant every word.

“It’s only been a week,” he muttered to himself.  “You’ve known this woman for a _week_.” And he’d spent half of that week believing she was barely hanging on to her sanity.

Oliver didn’t think Felicity was crazy anymore.  Especially not after last night.  He understood now that something had happened to her.  Something angry and violent and bloody.  Something that didn’t hurt her physically, but sure as hell fucked her up mentally. He wanted Felicity to tell him what it was.  He wanted her to lean on him, and use his strength, because he felt like he could give her that much, at least.

He’d tried to be there for her last night, as best he could.  After she’d untied the rope, and allowed him to resume his control, Oliver laid on the couch with her forever, kissing her lips and playing with her hair and touching her face.  He’d wanted to be there for her, for whatever she needed. 

Of course, his actions weren’t entirely selfless.  He loved touching her; he loved feeling her skin beneath his.  He spent a ridiculous amount of the evening with his ear pressed to her chest, listening to the steady pulsation of her heartbeat. The rhythmic thumping sang to him, and lulled him, and he hadn’t wanted to leave that spot, ever.

The strength of his hunger for her terrified him, and Oliver was trapped between the desire to hold her in his arms and cling to her for the rest of his life, and the desire to run screaming from this mountain right now – to go back to the shelter of the life he knew, as tedious and dreary as it was.

He should probably do just that.  He should probably put an end to this bizarre relationship.  He should probably tell Felicity that it wasn’t a good idea for them to see each other anymore, and then walk away. 

With that harrowing thought, Oliver shifted against the wood staircase, dropping his hands to his thighs and fisting his fingers.  Just the consideration of saying those words to his little fairy made his gut twist and his stomach roil.  He’d already tried being up here at Blue without her…and he’d barely made it 36 hours without losing his mind. 

No, he knew he couldn’t walk away, because he didn’t want to, and because he wasn’t able to. Oliver needed Felicity right now and, if he planned to stay by her side, he knew he needed to fulfill the promise he’d made to her in the heat of the night.  Felicity wanted to know what had happened to change his life, and Oliver had to tell her.  And he had to tell her _today_ , because he wanted to get it over with.  He wanted to get all of that mess out of the way, and lay it quickly back to rest, so that he could concentrate on her, and enjoy being with her, for the little time they had left with each other. 

Because Oliver knew there was no future for them beyond these moments.  There was no life for them together after they left this mountain. He understood that fact. Honestly, he knew it should make him happy, because whatever happened up here at Blue would stay here, and he never had to think about it – or her – again, once he went back to reality.

That knowledge should make him blissfully happy.  But right now, it just made him sick to his stomach.  Because, right this minute, Oliver couldn’t imagine there ever coming a time when he wouldn’t want to wrap his arms around his Felicity and hold on as tight as he could.

When the sound of tires crunching on gravel hit his ears, Oliver’s head shot up and his eyes focused. He watched as Roy drove the food truck down the driveway and parked beside the hobbled silver Porsche. Roy hopped out of the driver’s seat, pulled a tray from the back, and walked to where Oliver sat.

The boy didn’t smile. He just said, “Hey, Oliver,” and handed over the food.

“Hey,” Oliver replied as he took the tray of food he couldn’t imagine eating right now from Roy’s hand and set it behind him on the porch.  Then he turned back to the boy.  “If you don’t mind me saying, Roy, you don’t look so good today.”

“Well, you don’t look so good yourself.”

Oliver huffed out a laugh. “You want to sit for a minute?”

The young man shrugged beneath his red hoodie and then stepped up to sit with Oliver on the wood steps.

Oliver smiled as Roy settled beside him.  “So, we’re both having a bad start to the day.”

“I guess so,” Roy agreed.

“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

The boy chuckled. “You first.”

Oliver sighed and shook his head.  “Alright. Well, I just want to ask you a question.”

“Go ahead.”

“Do you…do you ever see people get together up here?  The patients, I mean.”

Roy’s eyebrow arched. “What do you mean by ‘get together’?”

“Together, romantically. Do you ever see people try to start relationships here?” 

“Oh. Yeah, sometimes.”

“Does it ever work out? I mean, after they leave Blue, do they ever stay together?”

“Well, I don’t really know, because I don’t see anyone when they go back home.  But I do see some of them return to Blue again, and I’ve never known anyone to still be with the person they were with the time before.”

Oliver looked out to the surrounding forest.  “And why do you think that is?  Why don’t romantic relationships last beyond these mountains?”

Roy shrugged. “I don’t know; probably because it’s not the real world up here.  This place is just too different, and the real world changes everything.”

Oliver’s shoulders sagged and he sighed.  He knew every one of those words was true, but that didn’t make it any easier to listen to them. “Thanks, Roy.”

The boy’s head tilted as he looked to Oliver’s face.  “I don’t know why you’re thanking me; I can’t imagine that’s what you wanted to hear.”

“You’re right, it wasn’t. But I appreciate your honesty.”

“Well…you’re welcome, then.”

Oliver nodded, and sat for a moment, trying to let Roy’s words sink in.  Then he glanced over at the boy and forced a smile on his face. “So, now it’s your turn. Why are you having a bad morning?”

Roy flinched as he stared out into the evergreens.  “Today is my mother’s birthday.  Well, it _was_ my mother’s birthday.”

All the air left Oliver’s lungs on a rush.  “Oh, fuck, man. Don’t let me sit here and talk about stupid shit when you’re dealing with something like that.”

Roy chuckled. “It’s not stupid shit, Oliver. Everyone is dealing with different issues.  It’s not a contest. It’s all just about figuring out a way to get through it.  And besides, it’s nice to concentrate on someone else’s problems for a while, to get your mind off of your own.”

Oliver shook his head as he watched the young man.  “God, you’re wise beyond your years, Roy.  How did you manage that?”

He grinned. “Don’t give me too much credit. Felicity taught me that part about life not being a contest.  She’s taught me a lot of things.”

“Felicity taught you?”

“Yeah.”

“Did I hear my name?” Felicity asked as she stepped out of the grove of trees between Cabins 9 and 10, her boots crunching on the gravel as she left the underbrush to approach them.

Oliver’s heart pounded with sight of his forest fairy, and he stood from the porch stairs at the same time Roy did.  Both men took a step toward her simultaneously.  But then Oliver glanced at Roy’s stricken face and he held back, allowing the boy to move forward.

Felicity smiled briefly at Oliver before turning her attention to Roy. They stepped up to each other, and Felicity reached out to take both of Roy’s hands inside of hers. Roy quieted the moment she touched him, and looked to her face as she focused in on his eyes.

“It’s a good day, Roy,” Felicity whispered.  “She would be so proud of you.  She _is_ proud of you.  You know that, right?”

Roy nodded, and a single tear dropped down his cheek.  “Yeah, I know.”

Felicity threw her arms around him then, and Roy hugged her back just as tight. 

Oliver stood and watched. He watched his Felicity give her entire heart and soul to the bedraggled and beaten young man, and his fingers twitched with the need to touch her.  But he steadied himself, and he waited, because he knew she had enough love in that perfect, tiny little body of hers to share with each of them.

When Roy finally pulled away from her embrace, the boy swiped at the tears on his face. “Well, I should…I should go finish my route,” he mumbled. 

Felicity gave him a gentle smile.  “You always know where to find me.”

He nodded. “Thanks, Felicity.” Roy straightened his spine as he turned to Oliver. “And thank you for listening to me.”

“Anytime, Roy. Thank you for listening, too.”

Roy forced a smile and then shifted away to move up the driveway. 

Oliver didn’t wait another second. He moved to her, because he had to, and because he could.  Felicity’s eyes were still focused on Roy’s retreating back as Oliver stepped toward her. It took him exactly two strides to reach her, and pull her body onto his, and grab her face in his hands, and press his lips to hers. 

Felicity met his kiss instantly, accepting the insistence of his mouth, but a moment later she hesitated, pulling back and placing her hand on his chest.  Oliver’s brow furrowed in confusion as he looked down to her, but then he watched her eyes dart over to where Roy stood, preparing to hop up into the driver’s seat. Oliver smiled. “I don’t think you need to be so shy about our relationship, Felicity,” he teased.  “I’m sure Roy understands; he is an adult.”

“I didn’t see anything!” Roy hollered as he jumped into the truck.  “Not a damn thing!”

Oliver chuckled while Roy pulled his door shut and drove off down the gravel.  Felicity looked back to Oliver’s face, her blue eyes luminous and earnest.  “I take it Roy told you what today is?” she asked as her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, right over his heart.

“Yeah, he told me.”

She sighed, easing her body further onto his.  “Oh, good. I’m glad you two can talk to each other. You’re both such wonderful people.”

Oliver shook his head as he absorbed the adoration in her gaze, not knowing where she came from or how she came to be in his arms.  He pressed another kiss to her mouth before resting his forehead against hers and closing his eyes.  “I missed you, baby.”

Felicity shifted even closer to him, and Oliver felt her smile against his lips. “I missed you, too, baby.”

He raised his head to look into her eyes.  “Hmm. I like it when you call me baby.”

“It’s nice, isn’t it? I really loved it when you called me that last night.  Of course, that wasn’t the only thing I loved about last night, because it was all quite…lovely.”

Oliver watched her cheeks flush pink as she bit down on her lower lip, and he thought his face would crack from the broadness of his smile.  “God, I loved last night, too,” he announced, mostly because he wanted to see her blush even more.  She didn’t disappoint him.

He dropped his gaze down then, glancing at the thin black sweatshirt and yoga pants she wore. Oliver chuckled beneath his breath, because he knew she probably wore black pants instead of heather grey so he couldn’t see her underwear through them.  He reached out to touch the material of her top and he shook his head. “Are you going to be warm enough in this to go out into the woods, Felicity?  It’s a bit chilly this morning.”

“I’ll be fine,” she insisted as she looked up to his eyes.  Oliver felt her hand run across the sleeve of his navy thermal shirt. “How about you? Is this warm enough?”

“Yeah, I’m good. But I do want to get one thing before we go.”

“What do you want to get?”

“Just give me a minute; I’ll be right back,” he said, forcing himself to step away from her. He bounded into his cabin to grab the blanket he’d left sitting on the couch.  When he stepped back to the porch and closed the door behind him, he glanced to her face. “Here it is.”

Felicity crinkled her nose. “What is that?”

“It’s a nice, cozy, king size blanket.  I found it in the closet behind the board games.” 

“I know what it is, but what is it _for_?”

“It’s for lying on the ground beneath us as we sit.  Or lay,” he offered, still somewhat traumatized by the prospect of random animal droppings.  “I realize I don’t know all of your forest rules yet, but will this still allow us to commune with nature properly?”

Felicity laughed. “Alright.  Bring your blanket, silly.”

He smiled and tucked the blanket up under one arm before stepping down off the porch and reaching his other hand to hers.  Felicity moved to his side and threaded their fingers together.  “You ready, Oliver?”

He nodded. “Ready, baby.”

Oliver walked beside her today, through the trees and underbrush.  Felicity didn’t have to pull him along, as she had the first time. He still couldn’t say that he relished the experience, but he knew he wanted to be here with her, and he was beginning to see things through her eyes. 

Felicity was just entranced by everything she witnessed.  She gasped and giggled and squealed with every acorn that dropped on the ground and every bird that fluttered its wings, and Oliver was so taken by her response to the world around her.  She bounced and bubbled and danced, and he was afraid to look at her for too long, because of the way his heart pounded against his chest at the sight of her innocent, enthusiastic eyes. 

Felicity stepped through the forest with no path in sight, just like the last time, and yet Oliver actually recognized a few landmarks from when they were here before. He realized as they walked that his little fairy wasn’t just flitting about; she actually knew exactly where she was going.  To Oliver, it seemed as if she always knew where she was going.  _It must be the Girl Scout in her_ , he thought. The same Girl Scout who’d tied him up with sailor’s knots and a timber hitch the night before. 

“So,” he considered as he watched the side of her face while they moved through the trees, “last night was really something.  I’m still not over your latent dominatrix tendencies.”

Felicity blushed with his words. “Thank you again, Oliver.”

“What are you thanking me for now?”

“For letting me act out my sexual fantasy.  I promise I’m not like that normally.”

“Well, then, I’m glad I got to be there with you when you let yourself go.”

She glanced up at him. “You know, I was thinking…since you were so good to me about everything I wanted to do last night, it would only be fair to return the favor.”

Oliver’s brow rose. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I think I should reciprocate, and fulfill a sexual fantasy of yours. If you want.”

“ _If I want?_   Are you seriously asking me if I want that?”

“I am.”

“Oh, yes, Felicity. I want that.”

Her cheeks flushed brighter as she nibbled against her lip.  “Okay then. I officially promise to fulfill a fantasy of yours, Oliver Queen.  Anytime you’d like me to.”

“But what if I want to tie _you_ up the next time around?”

“I’ll…I’ll do whatever you want.”

He smiled wickedly. “You know, I would be a lot more aggressive with you…if I was the one in control.”

Her fingers squeezed onto his. “I understand that. Do you think it makes me a bad person that I wanted to tie you up first?”

Oliver chuckled. “I don’t think there’s a force on earth that could make you a bad person, Felicity.  And besides, I already told you that you can be completely free when you’re with me.  Because I’m here with you, for as long as you want me.”

Her eyes sparkled as she gazed up at him.  “That makes me happy, Oliver.”

“Me, too.”

She glanced away then, looking to the trees, but her hand stayed firmly implanted inside his, and he smiled to himself as they continued walking.  Her body felt so warm against him, and his mind wandered to all the sexual fantasies he wanted to fulfill with her.  He would probably spend every spare minute of the next two weeks just trying to decide which one he wanted, because that decision would be hard as hell. 

Oliver was in the middle of all sorts of naked-Felicity mental images when he heard a rapid firing noise and startled, freezing in place.  “What on earth was that?”

“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh,” Felicity breathed as she came to a stop beside him.

“What? What is it?”

“Shh, Oliver, don’t scare him. Look.”  She pointed up into the boughs of a large pine tree, and Oliver followed her finger to a black-and-white speckled bird with a red crest of feathers above its beady black eyes.  The bird slammed its beak into the tree trunk, making the hammering sound again.

“He’s noisy,” Oliver huffed.

“He’s a red-headed woodpecker,” she informed him.  “He’s supposed to be noisy.”

Oliver chuckled as he looked down into her vibrant eyes.  “You like him?”

“I _love_ him.  He’s amazing, isn’t he?”

Oliver stood beside her, with her warm body flush against his arm, and just absorbed the sight of her for a long, long time.  Eventually, he heard the rustle of feathers above him and he knew the bird had flown away, not because he was watching the woodpecker, but because he was watching Felicity’s face, and feeling the joy that radiated from her body as she stood, enraptured and enthralled, by the bird’s flight.  The image of her childlike joy brought a memory to the surface of his mind: a memory of a little girl with dark hair, looking up to the sky and giggling whenever birds flew by.

Oliver reached out to run his finger down the side of Felicity’s face.  “You know, sometimes you remind me of my sister.”

Her eyes grew wide as she looked up to him.  “You have a sister, Oliver?”

“Yeah. Her name is Thea. She’s ten years younger than me.”

“Oh my goodness! What’s she like?”

“She’s fun and bright and bubbly, like you.”

Felicity grinned. “Are you close to her?”

“As close as I can be, with her living in Paris right now.”

“ _Paris?_   How did she end up there?”

He shrugged. “She wanted to travel the world, so she took a position with our Queen Consolidated branch in France. She loves it.”

“Hmm. And I’ll bet you hate it…having her that far away, out of your sight.”

Oliver chuckled, because Felicity already knew him so well.  “You’re right.  I hate it.”

Felicity just smiled again, and squeezed onto his hand, as she resumed walking.

He kept pace beside her, looking down to her bright face as they moved in synchronicity. His sweet little freebird was enchanting and positive and soothing and perfect, and right now Oliver couldn’t imagine giving her up, ever.  “I think you and Thea would get along so well, back in the real world,” he admitted before he could stop himself.

Felicity’s fingers twitched inside his as her eyes darted to his face.  Oliver watched her force a smile.  “I’m sure we would,” she mumbled.  Then she looked away, back into the trees.

Oliver knew he should let this conversation go now.  But he didn’t want to. “You know, I had an interesting talk with Roy this morning.”

“Oh yeah? What about?”

“It was about romantic relationships that start between patients up on this mountain.”

Her breath caught with his words, and she focused on the ground beneath her feet.  “And what did Roy have to say about it?”

“He said people don’t usually stay together after they leave here.  He said he’s never seen a couple make it once they get back to the real world.”

Felicity’s footing faltered as she walked, and Oliver held tighter to her hand, steadying her. “No, they don’t,” she whispered. “Not that I’ve seen.”

“Why do you think that is?”

She was quiet for a long moment, just moving beside him, and then she took a deep breath in. “Have you ever seen the movie _Speed,_ Oliver? The one where they have to keep the bus going above 50 miles per hour or it will blow up?”

“Yes, I’ve seen it.”

“Well, in that movie, Keanu Reeves tells Sandra Bullock that relationships based on intense experiences never work.  And I think that applies to things up here, too.  Relationships that start up on this mountain can’t last.  They just can’t.”

His brow quirked upward as he looked at her.  “Do you often live your life based on Keanu Reeves movie quotes, Felicity?”

She smiled. “Alright, maybe that was a bad example,” she offered, and then her smile fell as she met his eyes.  “But you do know what I mean, right?”

He wanted to say no. He wanted to say that her _Speed_ theory was utter, absurd nonsense and that anyone could make anything work, if they just tried hard enough. But he couldn’t say that, because he knew it would be a lie. 

“Yeah, I suppose I do know what you mean,” he admitted, even though the words stabbed like a sword into his gut.  He unthreaded his fingers from hers then, dropping his hold on her hand, but only because he needed her closer.  Reaching his arm around her back, Oliver grabbed hold of her waist and pulled her hip against his. He felt Felicity’s hand reach to the material of his shirt, and felt her fist gather the fabric into a ball against his lower back, as they continued to walk side by side.  His little fairy became quiet then, and that was okay with him, because he needed a moment to process his thoughts and his desires.

The forest felt still around them as they moved forward together, and Oliver was so caught up in the sensation of her body pressed to his side that he barely noticed her footsteps slowing. But he definitely felt her trembling beneath his arm, and his eyes darted to her face.  “Baby, are you okay?” he asked when Felicity came to a complete stop. 

“ _Oh_ ,” she breathed, her eyes widening as she stared at the tree before them.

Oliver followed her gaze to the beautiful, slender brown trunk in front of her that supported multitudinous branches covered in a million bright red leaves. Her body trembled as she stood beside him, and he held his breath as he watched her.

“Oh, Oliver, look. This…this is a red maple. It’s always been my most favorite tree.” She stepped away from him then, pulled toward the diverse shades of red leaves.  He let her go, because he knew she needed to see the leaves, and to feel them.  

Felicity reached up, running her hand reverently across a branch before stilling her fingers against one single rosy leaf.  “My God, it’s beautiful,” she whispered.  “It’s so beautiful.”

Oliver heard the quaver in her voice and he stepped up behind her, wrapping his arm around her waist to pull her back to his chest, although careful not to pull her away from her red leaf. Felicity’s free hand moved to his, overlapping his fingers as she sighed and relaxed into his embrace. He dropped his head into her hair, allowing himself to just breathe her in.  The scent of her tiny flowers floated into his brain, and Oliver cleared his mind of everything but her.  Because all he wanted was to be here, in this moment, with his freebird.

“Thank you for this, Oliver. Thank you so much. I love having this tree back.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, and felt her shiver as she wrapped both of her hands around his forearm, holding him even tighter to her body.  Oliver didn’t know how long they stood like that, with her staring at the red leaves as he breathed quietly into her loose gold curls, absorbing the warmth of her body into his skin.  But, eventually, Felicity turned in his arms and looked into his eyes and eased up on her toes to press her lips to his.  He kissed her softly, and slowly, and when she finally eased back down to the ground she gave him a sensual, satiated smile.

“Do you want to spread our blanket out here, Felicity?  Or do you want to go find your oak tree?  I think it’s pretty close.”

“You’re right; it is close. Let’s go there.”  

“Okay,” he agreed, grateful for the respite of walking again, because he didn’t know what acts he might commit if he had to stand there and continue to witness the desirous, drunken look on her face after just one of his kisses.

Within minutes of leaving the maple, Felicity stopped again, this time in front of a large oak trunk. “Here it is,” she announced, and Oliver chuckled, because he was pretty sure that it was actually the same one from the other day.

Felicity turned back to him and reached for the blanket under his arm.  Oliver opened the soft material up, and then handed her an edge, so they could unfold it together.  Felicity let her half of the fabric drop to the ground a few feet from the base of the oak, and Oliver knelt down to help her spread the rest out. He wasn’t all that helpful, though, because watching her wriggle on the ground as she straightened the material mesmerized him. It reminded him of the night she’d spread the Twister mat out on her living room floor, and Oliver remembered how difficult it was to watch her back then, too.  He wanted her just as much now as he did that night. God, he probably wanted her even more now, because he already knew what it felt like to be inside her, and he wanted to experience that sensation again and again and again.

When Felicity finished with her task, she perched herself on the smooth green fabric and looked up to his eyes.  “Are you going to come sit with me, baby?”

“I am,” he assured as he settled down on the blanket beside her. 

Her bright eyes watched him as he sat.  “Do you mind if I take my shoes off?”

Oliver’s brow furrowed. “Seriously?  It’s freezing out here.  You’ll get frostbite.”

“It’s not _that_ cold,” she assured with a laugh as she reached to her boots and began untying the laces.  “And besides, I told you the last time we were here:  I’m tougher than I look.” 

He smiled then, because he knew she meant those words.  And he wanted nothing more than to believe they were true.  Especially since she’d told him that she enjoyed blowing up powder kegs and poking grizzly bears, and he needed her to be strong enough to survive all that.

Felicity pulled off both of her boots, and then her socks, and set them beside the blanket. Then she sunk her feet onto the hard ground and curled her toes up in the dried, fallen leaves. She’d painted her toenails red again, and Oliver couldn’t help but smile when he saw them. “Do you actually enjoy having your feet in the dirt?”

“I do. Sometimes you just need to dance around in the dirt, you know?”

He didn’t know. But it seemed to make her happy, which made him happy.

Felicity flopped back onto the blanket then, and her gold halo of curls spread out on the green fabric as she looked up to the sky.  Oliver followed her lead.  He lay down on his back beside her, and rested his arm next to hers, and looked up.

The trees branches went on and on above him, reaching all the way to the clouds, and the morning sun eased through the branches with little streaks of silver and gold. It was beautiful, but it was also enormous, and he still wasn’t sure how safe they were.  But then he felt Felicity’s hand move to his, and felt her fingers stroke softly across the back of his own, and he smiled up into the boughs.  Oliver knew how much Felicity loved it here, so he would try to love it, too.

He listened to the flutter of unseen birds in the tree branches, and to the occasional dropping of acorns, and he worked to keep his body relaxed beside her.  But it was difficult, because Oliver knew that he couldn’t just lay here.  There was something else he had to do for Felicity today.  He had to fulfill his promise, and tell her what happened to change his life all those years ago. 

Oliver knew what it was. He didn’t have to search his memory, or figure out what incident she might be referring to. He knew exactly what Felicity was asking him about, but part of him still wanted to ignore its existence, because he found it unnecessary to dredge it from its resting place.

His muscles tensed against the blanket, even though he wasn’t actually afraid to tell her what happened. He didn’t fear reciting the event to her; what Oliver feared was what would come after.  He knew Felicity would never understand that, as horrible as the incident was, he had put it behind him.  He knew Felicity would react like his parents had, and try to dissect his feelings and force him to get help.  But Oliver hadn’t wanted to deal with doctors and therapy sessions and unrelenting psychoanalysis sixteen years ago, and he sure as hell didn’t want it now.

After all, it wasn’t as if this thing affected him on a daily basis.  The problem was dealt with; it was laid to rest.  Despite his parents begging him to seek counseling, he had managed – on his own – to put it in the past.  It wasn’t the reason he questioned his life now.  It wasn’t the reason he’d been unable to commit to McKenna, and it certainly wasn’t the reason he’d allowed Digg to talk him into coming here.

But that didn’t change the fact that he preferred the memory where it was: long buried, infrequently recalled, and definitely unshared.  The only adults still in his life who knew about that night were his parents. He’d long ago broken contact with anyone from high school, and his sister Thea had been too young to understand anything, and Oliver never found it necessary to share the incident with any women over the years.  Not even with McKenna.

And yet here he was, having made this promise to Felicity in a moment of sexually induced weakness, and now he would have to reopen the memory.  He would have to leave himself bare to Felicity’s examination, and grant her the opportunity to dissect him like the psychological fodder he’d never wanted to become.  He definitely wasn’t looking forward to it.  But he understood that it was best to get it over with.  If he told her today, then he could continue with this vacation, and spend every minute he had with his little freebird, without having to think about it again. He could rebury it, where it had been for sixteen years now, and move along.

Oliver took a deep breath and cleared his throat as he stared up into the trees. “Felicity?”

“Hmm?”

“I made you a promise last night…and I intend to keep it.”

Felicity’s fingers stilled against his.  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her turn her face toward him.  Oliver could feel her searching gaze against his skin and he swallowed hard.

“Do you _want_ to keep it?” she questioned.

“It was a promise,” he insisted, knowing he couldn’t simply ignore a promise and still live with himself afterward.

“Yes, I know it was a promise. But I kind of _coerced_ you into making it.”

He smiled up to the heavens. “Well, I guess I’m glad you can admit that.”

“Oh, yes, I admit it. I fully enjoyed exploring my feminine powers last night.”

“They’re exceptional, I must say.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. But your powers aren’t the issue here. I made a promise to you, and I intend to keep it.”

Felicity quieted for a long minute, and Oliver could feel her watching him.  Finally, she exhaled and said, “Then I release you from your promise.”

Oliver’s brow quirked upward as he turned to look into her eyes.  “You do?”

“Yes, because I got it unfairly.  My only excuse was that I was emotionally overwhelmed last night, being with you in that way, and then you gave me back a color.  A _color_ , Oliver. And I just…I wanted to know you. I wanted to see inside of you, so badly. And I’m not going to lie; I still do. But I don’t want you to share this with me if you don’t want to.  So I’m not going to hold you to that promise.”

Oliver’s breath caught in his throat.  _Is she actually going to allow me to walk away from this?_ God, it was certainly tempting to let sleeping dogs lie and forget the whole thing.  And yet, nothing about that felt right.  It was probably because he’d made her the promise and he didn’t want to back out of it.  But Oliver also knew that this was a woman who wanted nothing from him – who asked nothing of him – except to see into his heart.  And maybe, just maybe, he actually wanted her to see.

“Hmm, that’s odd.”

“What’s odd?” she asked.

“It’s odd that it seems I _do_ want to share this with you.”

“Why is it so odd?”

“Because I haven’t told anyone…”

“In a long time?”

“No. I haven’t told anyone. Ever.”

Felicity’s eyes widened and Oliver turned his head away from her, refocusing on the nothingness above him. He didn’t want her looking into him just yet; he didn’t want her to see those deep, dark places until he was ready. “This thing…this night…it was a long time ago,” he began, steeling his determination as he tried to find the words.

“When you were a teenager,” Felicity continued for him.

“Yes. I was eighteen. It was my senior year of high school. You already know that I was…very popular.”

“I do know that you were popular. And I know that you loved playing football.”

“I did. I was the quarterback, actually. I was good.  I was _really_ good. I already had a scholarship to play college ball.  Not that I needed a scholarship, financially speaking, but it felt good to know that I’d earned it myself. It was mine.”

Felicity reached her fingers to the inside of his hand.  “You were happy.”

Oliver clasped her fingers against his palm as he stared into the sky.  “I was. It was a foolish childhood happiness, for the most part, but I did understand that I had a lot going for me. My parents were incredible and they loved me without limits.  I had all the money and all the things I could possibly desire.  I had an amazing future to look forward to.  And it didn’t hurt that I could have pretty much any girl I wanted. My life was full and promising.”

His words trailed off while he concentrated on the feel of her fingers rising slowly up and then down his forearm.  Oliver closed his eyes with that sensation as visions of the past formed behind his eyelids. Felicity’s touch grounded him, and yet he was back there again, on that football field, throwing the pass that won the game.

“It was homecoming night,” he heard his own words from a distance, “and we won.  Coach named me MVP right there on the field, and my teammates carried me off on their shoulders.  I remember seeing Mom and Dad in the stands and knowing how proud they were of me. It was an amazing moment.”

Oliver inhaled shakily. “We all crowded into the locker room, screaming and hollering and slapping each other on the back. I don’t know who saw her first, because it took a while for us to settle down.  It took a moment for us to stop cheering and realize what we were seeing.

“A girl from our school was hanging from one of the rafters, her feet dangling over a bench. Her eyes were kind of bugged out and her skin was mottled.  She’d used the homecoming banner from the hallway to make a noose and she’d hung herself right there.

“The coach pushed past us and demanded that one of the guys help him get her down. They started CPR, and they called for an ambulance, but she was already gone.”

Felicity turned her body toward him, propping up on her elbow to look down to his face. “Did you know her, Oliver?”

He opened his eyes to see hers.  “No. I didn’t even recognize her. Not at first.  But she looked different, of course.  The body hanging there…that wasn’t who she was. Later, I remembered that she’d said hello to me in the school halls a few times.  And that night, before the game, she’d wished me luck right before I ran out onto the field – her and twenty other girls, hollering at me from the stands. I just remembered her being there because she was normally so quiet and it seemed odd for her to be standing in that crowd, shouting along with everyone else.”

“Did you know her name?”

“Not then, no,” he said with a shake of his head.  “They ushered us all out of the locker room before we had a chance to change clothes or anything.  I remember riding home with my parents that night…the car was so silent.  My father didn’t even turn the radio on, and he always had the radio on.  But not that night.

“The rest of the evening was difficult.  I couldn’t sleep for thinking about her; I just couldn’t fathom what had brought her to commit that act. She was so young, as young as I was, and I was so fortunate.  I recognized all of this happiness and all of this potential in my life, and I couldn’t understand how she didn’t see the same things in her own.  And I mourned her that night, even though I never knew who she was.”

Felicity sniffled with his words, and Oliver watched as a tear streamed from the corner of her eye. He took a deep breath in, working to steady himself, because he couldn’t stand for Felicity to cry because of him. He’d seen his mother cry way too many times over him through the years; he distinctly remembered how she’d sobbed the day he told her he was giving up his football scholarship. And now he had to watch the little drops fall from Felicity’s beautiful blue eyes, and he hated it.

Oliver could feel his own tears, salty and burning, behind his eyelids.  But he refused to let them out.  Because they would not control him.

Felicity settled down onto his body, resting her head in the crook of his shoulder as she curled her fingers up against his arm.  “I’m sorry, Oliver,” she whispered.

“There’s more,” he rasped, barely recognizing his own words for the pain behind them. “I went back the next day…to the locker room.  They had reopened it and I wanted to grab my things.  A few other guys from the team were there, but no one had much to say. I stared briefly at the rafter that she’d been hanging from, and then I went straight to my locker. I didn’t want to be there at all.

“I pulled open my locker door and began stuffing my things into a bag.  Then, as I was about to close the door, I noticed a small envelope taped to the inside.  It wasn’t addressed, but I knew it hadn’t been there before the game. 

“I sat down on the bench and opened it.  It was a piece of paper with a girl’s handwriting, very flowery and yet crooked in places. It had my name at the top, and when I looked down I saw that it was from her.  Carrie. The girl who had hung herself. She’d left me this letter.”

Oliver took in a deep breath, filling his lungs as he pressed his eyes shut again. _Carrie Cutter_.  He hadn’t thought her name in as many years as he could recall.  He could still see the letter…the smudges that had been made by her tears…the smudges that developed later with his own.

“She wrote that she’d been watching me for years,” he recalled, his tongue feeling dry and thick. “That she thought I was the most incredible person, and that I had such a wonderful life, and that she’d always wanted to be a part of it.  She said she had tried to talk to me, had tried to write me, but she never had the nerve. And then she said that things in her life weren’t very good.  She was afraid when she was at home, and she didn’t want to be there anymore. She said she wished that she could have been my girlfriend, because she knew I would have made her happy. She said that – if I had just wanted her – then maybe things would have been different.

“But then she wrote that she didn’t blame me.  She wrote that she loved me, and always would.  And then she wished me luck on my football game.  That goddamn, silly, stupid fucking football game.  And then she signed it:  _Carrie_.

“I imagine she put it in my locker just before she took her life.”

He cleared his throat, allowing his eyes to open to the sky.  “I read it over and over again.  It’s been sixteen years, but I can still see her handwriting.  I gave the letter to the police the next day – after I had spent an entire night reading it, and after I’d gotten up the nerve to show it to my parents. The police investigated her home, and shortly afterward her father was arrested.  A report came out later that said he’d been abusing Carrie and her younger sister.”

Oliver dragged in a ragged breath, his eyes staring, unseeing, up at the trees.  “I guess…I guess she had just found her way out.”

Felicity raised her head from his shoulder to look down to his face.  Oliver didn’t even see her at first, taking several moments to acclimate himself to the present.  But he knew her voice, and he knew her next words…he’d certainly heard them before.

“You know this wasn’t your fault.  She was obviously very troubled, and she could have focused on anyone.  It didn’t _really_ have anything to do with you.”

He clenched his jaw. _Goddamn it, here it comes…the psychological interrogation._

Oliver sat up then. He pulled away from Felicity’s body to balance on the edge of the blanket.  “Yeah, I know,” he insisted, turning his eyes to look out to the forest. He ran both hands across his thighs, trying to control the trembling in his fingers.

Felicity sat up beside him. He heard her exhale in frustration, and he fought the urge to turn to her.  Because he was not about to be fodder for anyone.  Not even her.

“But you _don’t_ know, of course,” she spoke with fierce determination. “You blame yourself for Carrie’s death as sure as if you took her life with your own hands.”

Oliver shivered with the sound of Carrie’s name.  He couldn’t recall it ever being spoken aloud since high school.  “I know I didn’t take her life, Felicity.  That was a horrible night, and the next few months were a worrisome time for me, but it’s in the past.  I’ve moved on.”

Felicity froze beside him. She felt so stiff that Oliver couldn’t prevent himself from looking to her, just to make sure she was still breathing. But, the moment he met her intense gaze, he regretted it…because she looked mournful, and soulful, and impassioned, all at the same time, and he knew she’d only just begun.

“My God, you don’t actually believe that, do you?” Felicity questioned as she stared into him. “You don’t really think that this was just some troublesome event in your past that you’ve moved on from, do you?”

He huffed as he shook his head.  “I _do_ believe that, because that’s _exactly_ what it is.  And you can stop with your analysis of me now, because I already know what you’re going to say next. You’re going to say that I felt a lot of guilt about it and it fucked me up psychologically.”

Felicity exhaled. “Did you?”

“Did I what?”

“Did you feel a lot of guilt about it?”

Oliver ran a rough hand through his hair.  “I already told you I was an asshole back then.  And I just…I wish she’d picked someone else.  I mean, I wish she hadn’t done it at all, but if she had to pick someone, it shouldn’t have been me.  She shouldn’t have seen me as some knight in shining armor.”

Felicity moved closer to him, easing her hand to his arm, and Oliver flinched with her touch. He turned his head away from her, staring blankly into the trees.  “Do you know what I did the morning of the homecoming game, Felicity?”

“What did you do, Oliver?”

“I fucked two girls. Not at the same time, but…one of them was supposed to be my girlfriend.  The other one was her twin sister.”

Oliver felt Felicity’s hand move tenderly across his forearm and he felt nauseated.  He gritted his teeth as she continued to pet him, as he continued to remember that day.  “I went to my girlfriend’s house first thing that morning and I climbed the trellis outside of her window and snuck into her bedroom.  I woke her up and told her I needed her, so that I could have luck for the big game.  And she just smiled at me and opened her arms to me and let me fuck her.  Then, when I was done, I climbed back out of her window and shimmied across the trellis to the window next to hers.  That was her twin sister’s bedroom, and I climbed inside there. Her sister was waiting for me, because we’d been sleeping together behind my girlfriend’s back for a while, and I looked right at this other girl and said I needed luck before the big game. And then I fucked her, too. That’s what I did the day Carrie took her life.”

Felicity inched closer to him. “Oliver, you were a boy. Those were the actions of a boy.”

“No,” he said, fisting his hands tight against his thighs, “I was an asshole.  I was complete fucking dick and she shouldn’t have picked me. Carrie shouldn’t have picked me.”

Felicity drew her hand slowly up his arm and then reached for his face, curving her fingers around his jaw to pull him to her.  When Oliver finally had the guts to look into her trusting eyes, she smiled softly. “You have too much guilt over this. More guilt than any innocent has a right to have.”

 _Innocent?_ Oliver had no fucking clue how she could use that word to describe him.  He only knew that he needed to bury all of this back down again now, in the recesses of his mind, where it had settled so long ago.  “I’m sorry to have to say this, Felicity, but you just don’t know what you’re talking about.  Yes, I felt guilty back then because of what I’d done that day, but whatever guilt I may have felt as a teenager…”

“You have carried with you each and every day of your life since.”

Oliver’s brow furrowed as he glared at her.  “You know, this is why I never tell anyone what happened.  People always want to make an issue of something that is long gone and forgotten. I didn’t tell you this so you could use your amateur psychology on me.  You asked me a question about my life and now I’ve answered it. That’s all.”

Felicity breathed in deeply as she watched him, with eyes as soft and sweet as they were focused and determined.  Oliver could tell she wasn’t done.  He knew she was going to come at him now, with all of the psychological vomit she’d learned up here at Blue, and he couldn’t stand the thought of it.

He pulled away from her again, shifting over on the blanket to stare at the oak’s trunk.

Felicity immediately moved forward. She crawled to her knees beside him and encircled his forearm with her hand, leaning onto his shoulder as she spoke beside his ear.  “You _did_ answer my question. I asked you to tell me about the event that changed your life forever – the one that changed who you are as a person – and you told me.  The thing is, even though you knew exactly what I was referring to, you still don’t acknowledge the significance of it.   Or the fact that it _completely_ changed you.”

“You don’t know that,” he insisted, denying his body the need to touch her, to breathe in her scent, to welcome her comforting warmth.

“Don’t I?” she whispered, her breath flushing against his skin.  “You told me last night that you couldn’t remember the last time you’d really laughed.  And you and I both know that you have fierce control issues.  You plan everything, in excruciating detail.  You don’t let anyone around you take risks; you don’t want anyone to make mistakes.  And you spend your life telling people what to do.  All because you want to save them from themselves.”

“You can’t relate all of this to one incident.”

“Yes, actually, I can. It’s not all about that one night, Oliver; it’s about the years and years of pressure and pain that have built up on top of it.  You threw yourself into a job that gives you the power to tell people what’s best for them. You tell your parents not to climb mountains because of the chance of being hurt.  You hate that your sister lives so far away because you want her under your thumb.  You deny yourself the joys of nature because of its inherent chaos.  You have let this guilt rule you – you have let it rule your life. And you’ve been so busy trying to maintain control of everything and everyone that you didn’t realize you never had control. Because nobody does. Not really.”

Oliver huffed. This was worse than he’d imagined. She was spewing more Freudian waste than he ever thought possible.  But at least he’d learned his lesson:  he _definitely_ would never tell this to anyone again, _ever_.

“Oliver,” Felicity sighed, the warmth of her body infusing his skin as she snuggled up beside him, “will you answer a question for me?”

“It depends,” he replied, staring out at the never ending trees and wishing she had no effect on him at all.

“On what does it depend?”

“On what the question is. I’m not making any more promises.”

“Fair enough. I was just wondering if you would tell me about the relationships you’ve had in your life.”

“Relationships?”

“With women.”

He shrugged. “There’s not much to tell. Just normal relationship stuff.”

“But you told me that you want to be married.  You said you want the picket fence and the kids and everything.  And I imagine you’ve found a woman or two during your life who would have been more than willing to give that to you.”

He cringed. “I found a woman. Once.”

“Yeah? Will you tell me about her?”

Oliver didn’t like where this was headed.  But he knew Felicity wouldn’t stop until he told her, and dear God, he just wanted this over with. “Her name was McKenna. We were together for three years. She was a financial planner at Starling National Bank.”

“And what did you like about her?”

“I don’t know; the normal things you like about someone.  She was beautiful.  Intelligent. Socially connected. It made sense.”

“What made sense?”

“Her. She made sense. Any man would be lucky to have a future with her.”

“Did the two of you discuss a future?”

“Yes.”

“Did she want to get married?”

“Actually, she asked me.”

“She did? Well then, why aren’t you married, Oliver?”

A laugh forced its way from his throat.  How many times had he asked himself the same question?  “I don’t know,” he replied in all honesty.

“I know why you aren’t married.”

He turned to look at her then, staring into the blue eyes that were just inches from his. “Well, of course you know, Felicity. Because, apparently, you have all the answers.”

Her hand tightened on his arm. “I didn’t say I have all the answers. But I do have this answer. Would you like to hear it?”

“Oh, sure. Why not?”

“You said you aren’t married yet because you haven’t found the right woman. But have you ever considered that you’re not looking for the right kind of woman?  Because Oliver Queen – the _real_ Oliver Queen – wants someone who challenges him. He wants someone he can argue with. He wants someone to explore the world with.  He wants a woman who gives him everything, and takes everything, all at the same time. Because you, Oliver Queen, are not a man who wants a boring, perfect little life.  You _think_ you do, because of all the years that you’ve tortured yourself with guilt over Carrie. You think that if you lead a picture perfect life, with a picture perfect woman, then you will do Carrie’s memory justice, and prove that her final beliefs weren’t for nothing. Except you can’t quite force yourself to go through with it, because deep down you know it’s not who you really are.”

Oliver shook his head. “You do realize that everything you’re saying is ridiculous, right?  Carrie isn’t the reason I can’t make a relationship work.”

Felicity sighed heavily as she continued to look into him.  “Okay. Well then, let’s look at another issue. What about your work?”

“What about it?”

“How many hours a week are you at your job, Oliver?”

“I’m the CEO, Felicity.”

“Yes, but I’m just curious. How many hours a week?”

“I don’t know. Maybe seventy or eighty.”

“Mmm-hmm. And when was the last time you took a vacation before this one?”

“It’s been a few years.”

“A few?”

“It’s…it’s been a while. I don’t remember how long. A work ethic isn’t a flaw, you know. Those people – my employees – they rely on me.”

“I know they do. And you give them everything; I can see that.  I know how much you want to make their lives better.  I know how brave and strong you want to be for them, so they’ll have everything they need for a happy life.  But you don’t leave anything for yourself…you don’t have anything to come home to.”

Oliver shook his head again, his blood boiling in his veins, because a Frolicking Freebird would have no fucking clue what it meant to be responsible for the lives of so many people. “No offense, but you don’t have any idea what the hell you’re talking about, Felicity.  And I’m done with this conversation now.  I want to change the subject.”

She held tighter to his arm. “You work so hard for everyone else, but you don’t leave anything for yourself.  And it’s killing you.”

“ _Stop_ ,” he barked.  “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“You’ve been cowering in dread since that night in high school, Oliver.  You’ve never even held your goddaughter, because you’re afraid you’ll break her.  You can’t even understand why your best friend loves you, because you don’t realize how loveable you are.”

“ _Felicity_ …”

“I can’t stand to see you suffer this way.”

“ _Stop._ I’m telling you to stop.”

“Because you are, Oliver; you’re suffering.”

“Damn it, I said _stop_!”

“No. I need you to hear me. I need you to see. You’ve allowed this to suck all the joy from your life.  It’s killing you, slowly but surely, and I can’t bear to watch…”

“Then you don’t have to!” Oliver shouted as he detached himself from her body and stood.  He took several steps away and came to a stop in front of the oak tree, with his back to her.  Every muscle in his body tightened, and his next words came out in a rush.  “You know, we’ve already decided that this thing between us isn’t permanent. We both know we’re just on vacation here. So, if you think I’m suffering and you can’t stand to watch, then you should just leave.”

Oliver stared at the oak’s trunk, clenching his teeth so tight that he thought his jaw would break. He listened as Felicity heaved out a sigh. Then he heard the rustling of her tiny body and the padding of her bare feet as she came to stand behind him.

Her voice was like an angel’s as she whispered, “I don’t want to leave.”

The blood rushed through Oliver’s veins while he stared at all the little cracks and crevices in the bark. “Then I won’t give you a choice.” He turned back to her, pulling up to his full height as he stared, hard and unflinching, into her face. “We’ve had a few fun days together, you and I.  But that’s all this was, so now we’ll stop.  And we will say goodbye.”

Oliver watched as moisture collected in the corners of Felicity’s eyes, and his stomach ground against itself, pushing acid into his throat. 

“But, Oliver…”

“I’m serious, Felicity. Take me back to the cabin. I’m done.”

A single tear fell down her cheek and she brushed it away with the back of her hand. “Okay.  If that’s what you really want, then I’ll take you back. And I’ll say goodbye to you.”

Oliver battled the stinging sensation behind his eyelids.  “That’s what I want.”

Felicity watched him for a long minute, with her head tilted, and her eyes glassed with tears, and a thousand emotions running across her face, and Oliver forced himself to stand there and take it all in.  Then she said, “Alright,” and he’d never felt more relieved or more sickened.

He continued to stare at her, waiting for her to move.  Waiting for her to turn and lead him out of this forest, back to some semblance of safety. He waited for a thousand hours, and then she smiled so softly and so sweetly that it forced all the air out of his lungs.

“Oliver,” she whispered, taking a step toward him and looking up into his eyes, “before we go, could I ask you for one thing?”

“ _What?_ ”

She blinked at the harshness of his voice.  Then she took another step forward, so that her body was just inches from his. “Will you give me a hug goodbye? I won’t ask you for anything else, I promise.  I just…I would like to feel your touch one more time.  Just once more.”

Pain shot through his chest at the sound of her perfectly beautiful plea, and he feared she’d broken something inside him.  Something that could never be fixed.  But the thought of denying her this one thing, as she stood here looking up at him with the biggest, saddest eyes he’d ever seen, hurt far worse.  So he said, “Okay.”

His entire body stiffened, and he held as still as stone, as he waited for her to come to him. Felicity gazed up into his eyes for an eternity.  By the time she finally stepped up to his body, and reached her hands to his waist, Oliver’s muscles shook from the tension.

Felicity wrapped her arms around his back, curling her fingers into the material of his shirt. She rested her cheek against his chest, nuzzling her ear beside his heart.  And then she sighed, relaxing onto him. 

Oliver remained stiff as a board.

He wanted to hold her. He _needed_ to hold her.  But he knew he couldn’t. So he forced himself to stay still, with his arms stiff at his sides, knowing that this was for the best. Knowing that she needed to walk away from him.  Knowing that he needed to let her go. 

He needed to let her go. He had to.  He _had_ to.

And he almost made it. He almost got through the entire embrace without breaking.  He made it right up until she started to pull away.  But then he couldn’t stand it any more. 

As Felicity straightened, as she eased her arms away from his body, Oliver grabbed hold of her shoulders. She lifted her head from his chest, tilting her chin up to his face, and Oliver leaned down to press his cheek against hers, feeling the warmth and softness of her skin against his scratchy stubble. His fingers squeezed into her arms as he breathed, harsh and ragged, beside her ear. 

Felicity didn’t move. She didn’t twitch or squirm or pull away from the fierce grip of his hands.  But she did tremble against him, just slightly, as he held tight to her.

Oliver knew he should leave her be. She was too good. She was too pure. Too innocent.  He should walk away.  He should _run_ away.

But he didn’t. He just stood there, listening to the shallow breaths that left her lungs.  He stood there for as long as he could, until he couldn’t handle it anymore. Then he dragged his cheek across hers as he sought out her mouth with his own.  The moment he pressed his lips against hers, he dragged her body onto his and banded her tight to his chest, holding her so fiercely that she whimpered inside his unforgiving hold. 

Oliver deepened the kiss, tasting her, pulling her closer, pushing himself inside her. Felicity let him. She sunk into the harsh embrace, curling her arms around his shoulders and running her fingers into his hair.

He kissed her as hard as he could.  In the back of his mind, he knew it was too hard.  Too punishing. He wanted to stop, and he didn’t want to stop.  And Felicity still just held him, and caressed him, and let him do as he pleased. 

Oliver couldn’t take it. He couldn’t take this trust she gave him so openly.  So he pulled back, tearing his mouth away and staring down into her face. 

She gazed up at him as tiny, shallow breaths left her throat.  Her sky blue eyes were dark with desire and determination and acceptance and he didn’t know why she still stood here.  Especially with her lips already swollen from the callousness of his kiss.

Felicity was so innocent and so beautiful and so full of life and Oliver never felt more like an animal than he did right now.  “You need to leave,” he growled.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“You need to _leave_ ,” he repeated, and he didn’t even recognize his own voice – it was harsh and menacing and pleading, all at the same time.

Felicity looked up to him and shook her head slowly in response.

_Goddamn it, doesn’t she know what’s best for her?_

Oliver gripped tight to her shoulders and stared down into her face.  “If you stay here right now, I am going to do exactly what I want to do,” he warned. 

He expected her to recoil from the feral look in his eyes.  She didn’t. She didn’t move at all. So he decided to give her one last warning.  “If you stay here right now, Felicity, you will not touch me.  I am going to do all of the touching.  I will be in control of everything.  Do you understand?”

She watched him for a long minute, just stood and breathed and watched him, but her determination never wavered.  “I understand,” was all she said, and Oliver groaned deep in his throat from the pain of her surrender. 

“Lift your arms,” he demanded.

Felicity complied. She didn’t flinch or falter. She didn’t take her eyes off of his. She raised her hands above her head and stilled.

Oliver reached to the hem of her shirt and gathered the material in his hands.  His fingers scraped against the warm skin at her waist and she sucked in a breath but didn’t move.  He watched her closely as he raised the material up her body, all the way to the end of her fingertips, before letting it fall to the ground. Then he stood for a moment, looking down at her, watching her breathe.  He knew the air was cold.  He knew she would start to shiver soon.  But she still didn’t move.  She just stood there, with her arms above her head, meeting his stare.

Oliver reached around her back and undid the clasp of her bra.  He lifted the black lace material up and over her arms.  He let it fall.  Then he reached down to the hem of his own shirt and whipped it up and over his head, allowing it to join her clothes in the dirt. 

Stepping into her body, Oliver pressed his bare chest onto hers.  He felt her tight nipples push into his skin, and heard a little moan escape her lips, but she still didn’t move.  Reaching down, he grabbed hold of her ass and lifted her. “Wrap your legs around me,” he instructed, waiting until she obeyed.  When her thighs encased his waist, Felicity lowered her hands to his shoulders, steadying herself as he held her above the ground, and Oliver winced at the softness of her touch. 

He took the few steps he needed in order to reach the hunter green blanket that lay against the dirt and leaves. Gripping her body tightly, Oliver lowered her to the soft fabric and laid her down on her back, just before covering her body with his own.  Felicity’s gentle hands found their way into his hair, and he grimaced.  “Put your arms back above your head.  Now.”

Felicity’s eyelids fluttered for a moment, but then she did as he ordered.  She placed her arms above her head, beside the gold halo of curls that framed her face.  Oliver stared down into her trusting eyes as she gazed up at him, and he couldn’t bear for her to look at him.  He couldn’t bear for her to see him.  So he let his forehead fall into her chest, resting against her heart, as he worked to catch his breath.

Her skin was warm and soft beneath his mouth and he pressed his lips to it, trying to be gentle for a moment before giving up and just biting.  Felicity arched beneath him as he licked and nipped his way across her skin, from one breast to the other, taking each nipple into his mouth in turn and sucking and tasting and pulling until she cried out and squeezed her thighs tighter around his hips. 

“Unwrap your legs from around me and put your feet on the ground,” he instructed when he finally released her breast from his mouth.  Her nipple was taut and jutting in the cold air, still wet from his tongue, and she moaned as she complied.  When Oliver felt her thighs spread open, he hummed his approval into her skin and pressed his lips to her breastbone.  Then he kissed down the center of her body, purposefully dragging his chin stubble across her as he went.  When he reached the top of her pants, he nipped at her skin while curling his fingers into the waistband.

Oliver pulled back then, sitting up on his knees to get a good hold on the material. “Lift your hips,” he demanded, watching the steadiness in her eyes as she allowed him to pull her pants down to her thighs.  Then he reached to one of her bare feet, and bent her leg up beside his hip, so he could remove the pant leg.  Once that was done, he stripped the rest of the material from her other leg and threw it to the side.

Felicity lay before him then, in nothing but a little pair of black panties, and he knew it was too fucking cold out here for her to be naked, but she didn’t say a word. She didn’t protest anything. She just looked up at him, with her arms above her head, and waited. 

Her fingers dug into the hunter green fabric beside her hair.  Her chest was heaving, her tight nipples pointed skyward.  The skin from her neck to her belly was dark pink, marred by the coarse scruff of his chin.  Red bite marks from his teeth tarnished the cream color of her breasts.

Oliver stared at her for a long moment. 

She was so sweet and so beautiful and so trusting and he was going to devour her.

Felicity should care about that.  She should possess the self-preservation to leave.  But, apparently, she didn’t.  _I’m tougher than I look, Oliver_ …she’d said those words to him more than once.  But he didn’t know if she was tough enough.  He honestly didn’t think anyone could be that strong.

Reaching down to the straps at her hips, Oliver ripped her underwear off.  She sucked in a little breath, but didn’t move. He let the torn material fall to the ground.  And then he dropped down on the blanket, and buried his face between her thighs, and pressed his mouth to her sex, and drank her in. 

Oliver heard Felicity’s swift inhalation, and her shuddered moan, as he ran his tongue into her soft folds. He wrapped his arms around both her legs, and hitched her knees up over his shoulders, to get a better grip on her. And then he just dove in, licking and tasting and sucking and doing every damn thing he’d wanted to do since the moment she first walked out of the woods by the side of the road.

He wasn’t playful with her. He wasn’t teasing. He was determined and consuming and insistent and he didn’t let up.  Not for a second.

Felicity didn’t fight him. She stayed as still as she could while she moaned beneath his ministrations.  The louder she moaned, the harder he held her in place.

Oliver was so engrossed in her body, so engrossed in the ability to finally taste her flesh, that he didn’t notice her touch.  He didn’t notice her hands easing onto his head.  He didn’t notice the soft ruffling of her fingers through his hair. Not at first.  But then he did.  He felt her caressing him as he continued his invasion, and he couldn’t accept that tenderness right now.

Oliver lifted his head just enough to look up to her face.  Her eyelids were pressed shut.  And her lower lip was clamped in her teeth, so tight that he thought she might draw blood.

“ _Felicity_.”

Her eyes popped open and she looked down to him, releasing her lip as she drew in a shaky breath.

“Put. Your.  Arms.  Back. Above.  Your.  Head.”

She whimpered with his words.

“You _will not_ touch me,” he growled.

Oliver held his breath as he waited for her to comply.  After long, stretched seconds, she did.  She gave in, and returned her hands to the top edge of the blanket, and only then did Oliver return to her wet, salty skin.  He buried his face back inside her heat, buried his tongue back inside her softness. She tasted like honey and wine and she intoxicated him.  He felt drunk off of the power and control she offered him as he worked her tender flesh beneath his mouth.

Felicity mewled and panted and wriggled while Oliver did his bidding, and when he pulled one hand from her thigh to press his fingers inside her tight, wet sheath, she cried out into the cool forest air.  Her inner muscles squeezed around his fingers and Oliver knew she was close. He wanted her to come. He wanted her to come uncontrollably against his tongue and his hand.  He wanted to know that she would give him everything, absolutely everything, without question…even though that knowledge would torture him as much as it would empower him.

Felicity's hips began moving rhythmically as Oliver continued to fuck her with his mouth and his fingers, over and over and over again.  He worked her flesh with expert precision, relishing the wetness he coaxed from deep inside her body.  He nipped and licked and hummed against her tight little bundle of nerves, and when Felicity finally let herself go, she clamped her thighs against his neck and screamed.

Oliver’s erection throbbed and twitched in his jeans as he pressed his face into her sex and rode the crest of her orgasm.  God, he needed to be inside her.  He needed to fuck her. Hard.  Fierce.  Unrelenting.

Pulling his fingers from her body, Oliver grabbed hold of her thighs and pried them apart. He sat back on his knees and reached for his zipper.  He had his cock free in an instant, and the next second he plunged inside her, driving deep and full into the warmth of her body.  Felicity inhaled swiftly as his chest landed on top of hers, and he found himself face to face with his little forest fairy as she gazed up at him beneath heavy-lidded eyes.  Oliver knew she was still in the aftermath of her orgasm, because he could feel the waves of her inner muscles contracting around his thick, heavy length, but he needed her attention so she could comprehend what he was about to do.

“Felicity,” he said, waiting until she focused on his face.  “You need to keep your hands above your head.  You understand that?”

She nodded slowly.

“I’m going to be rough,” he confessed, and he wasn’t just talking about this moment, but it was the only warning he could get out. 

Oliver forced himself to be still as he waited for her consent. 

Or, more likely, her refusal.

He fully expected her to deny him, because he needed to use her right now.  He needed to use her body for his own selfish purposes, and he didn’t want her to allow it.  He wanted her to force him away.  He wanted her to tell him that he was a monster and to get the fuck off of her.

So he lay there, buried inside of her, and waited for her rejection.

But Felicity didn’t refuse him.  Instead, she gazed up at him with soft, adoring eyes, and curled her fingers tighter into the blanket beneath her hair, and said, “I’m here, Oliver.”  That was her answer.  _I’m here, Oliver_.  And he knew, without a doubt, that he didn’t deserve her.

He started fucking her then. He fucked her as hard as he could. He wasn’t tender. He didn’t kiss her. He dropped his head into her shoulder, so he wouldn’t have to see her face, as he drove himself inside her, over and over again.  He took it all out on her – all his frustration, all his pain, all his years of pent up anger and fear and self-loathing.  He took it all out on her with a pounding, driving, frantic need.  Felicity just allowed it, panting beside his ear as he lost himself inside the warmth of her body.

Oliver heard the little moans that left her throat with every tortured thrust he made, and the tender sounds gripped like a vice around his heart.  He didn’t deserve her understanding.  He didn’t deserve her innocence.  He didn’t deserve all that she willingly gave.  But he took it anyway.  He took everything, took every tiny piece of her she offered.  And he still wanted more. 

He kept fucking her, his movements furious and stuttered and desperate, and yet Felicity’s hands remained where they were.  She lay pliant and peaceful beneath him, and Oliver could feel her acceptance. He could feel her willingness to be whatever he needed her to be. 

And right this moment, Oliver loved her, and hated himself, all at once.

He jerked violently into her several more times, and then his orgasm hit him like a freight train and he came inside her with a wild, roaring growl.  Felicity’s breath caught in response.  Oliver’s entire body tensed and pulsed as he emptied himself into her, and she lifted her legs to wrap them around his back, enveloping him and holding him steady while he found his release in the welcoming home of her body.

Oliver collapsed on top of her.  He buried his forehead into the side of her neck as he struggled to force air back into his lungs. He could feel her thighs around his hips, and her feet linked together behind his back, and he couldn’t believe that she still held him to her, after what he’d just done.

He grabbed hold of her. Wrapping both of his arms around her shoulders, Oliver gripped tight to Felicity’s body.  He squeezed his eyes shut as he listened to the tiny breaths escaping her throat, and he felt the sting of tears behind his eyelids. Then he felt the wetness on his cheek. For a moment, Oliver thought the tears were his.  But he realized they weren’t; they were hers. 

He raised his head to see her. Little droplets ran down her soft cheeks as she gazed up at him with brimming, glassy blue eyes, and dread and panic filled Oliver’s gut.  “Oh, God, I’m sorry,” he breathed, bringing his hands to her face to hold her steady as he looked into her. “Did I hurt you? I’m sorry.  I’m so sorry, Felicity.  Please forgive me.  I’m so sorry.”

She shook her head and more tears fell, running down her cheeks and onto his hands. “You didn’t hurt me, Oliver. I need you to understand that. You _did not_ hurt me.  You’re a good person.  You’re a good man.”

He raised his fingers to her forehead and traced the outline of her face, trying to absorb her words. “I don’t…I don’t know how you can say that. You’re crying; I must have hurt you.”

“That’s not why I’m crying. I _swear_ you didn’t hurt me.”

“But then why are you crying?”

Her lips trembled as she looked up to his eyes.  “I’m crying because I can’t bear to lose you yet.”

Oliver’s brow furrowed. “Wh-what are you talking about?”

“You said…you said you wanted to say goodbye to me.”

All the air left his lungs on a rush.  He hadn’t even remembered saying those goddamn fucking idiotic words.  “Felicity, I…”

“No, wait. I need to apologize, Oliver. I pushed you too hard. You confided in me, and I pushed you, and I completely understand if you don’t want to see me anymore. But I just…I really don’t want to say goodbye.  So, if I promise not to say anything else about what happened in your past after we leave these woods today, do you think we could still be together up here on this mountain?”

Oliver grabbed her face in both hands.  “I don’t want to say goodbye, either.  Those were stupid, panicked words that I didn’t mean and should never have said.”

Felicity gave him a tremulous smile.  “So we’ll stay together?”

“Of course. Of course we’ll stay together.”

“Oh, thank goodness,” she whispered, blinking against the moisture in her eyes as she twisted her fingers beside her hair.  “Oliver, can I…can I please touch you now?”

“God, yes,” he breathed. “If you still want to.”

She immediately lowered her arms from the blanket and raised her hands to his face, running her fingers across his cheeks and into his hair.  Oliver could see the affection in her tender gaze and he shook his head. “I’m sorry, Felicity. I’m sorry,” he echoed, because he didn’t think he could ever say it enough.  “I’m so, so sorry for what I did.”

“It’s okay.”

He stared hard into her eyes. “No, it’s not okay. I’m sorry for everything, and I need you to forgive me.”

“But I already told you…you didn’t hurt me.”

“I need you to forgive me.”

Felicity steadied his face in her hands.   “I do forgive you.”

His heart pounded inside his chest.  He shook his head again, over and over, because she didn’t understand.  She couldn’t possibly understand.  “No, not just for today.  I need you to forgive me for everything.  For _everything_.”

Her lips trembled as another tear fell down her cheek.  “Oliver…you were just a boy.”

He reached his fingers into her hair.  “I need you to forgive me.”

“Listen to me, baby, please. You’re a good person – a strong, compassionate, loveable person – and the boy you were can’t hurt the man you are now.  Not if you don’t let him.”

He clenched her gold curls tighter in his hands.  “I need you to forgive me.  God, Felicity, please. _Please_. Forgive me.”

Her breaths left her chest in shallow spurts, but Felicity looked up at him with nothing but calm, certain acceptance. He watched as she raised her head from the blanket in order to press her soft lips to his for one perfect moment. Then she settled back and whispered, “I forgive you, Oliver. You’re forgiven.”

Oliver listened to those words.  He listened to those sweet, beautiful words and then he crumpled onto her, his forehead falling into her neck as the tears – the tears he never wanted – began spilling from his eyes.  The moment Oliver’s teardrops hit Felicity’s cheek, she cried, too.

Oliver just held her closer, and pressed his face into her hair, and breathed her in. 

Felicity wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to him.  She held onto him with everything, with her arms and her legs and her body and her heart and her soul, and Oliver held her back just as tightly. Right now, for the first time in as long as he could remember, Oliver didn’t feel completely and utterly broken. He was raw and exposed and bare, but he wasn’t broken…because Felicity was here, holding him together. And right this moment, for the first time ever, Oliver had faith that maybe, just maybe, he could put himself back together.

...

A/N: Okay, so, I am both nervous and excited to hear what you think of this, if you feel like sharing your thoughts. I hope you have a wonderful weekend :)Tina

Up next...Chapter 9: Unbreakable


	9. Unbreakable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello sweethearts! My apologies for the slight delay in posting...real life was shaking its fist at me this week. But I did want to say how amazed I was by the beautifully passionate responses to the last chapter - you are all so wonderful to give me your time and your thoughts! Also, I should probably post an extended warning that the smut gets a bit explicit at times during the remainder of this story. I hope that's okay :)

Felicity and Oliver walked out of the forest together, side-by-side and hand-in-hand.

Oliver glanced at her constantly as they moved in synchronicity, looking to her face to gauge her expression. She always gazed back at him the same way – with a sweet smile and kind, adoring eyes – and it made his heart clench even tighter in his chest.  His fingers trembled against hers as she held onto him.

After what had just happened between them in the woods, Oliver wanted to grip onto her hand as hard as he could, to ensure that she wouldn’t leave his side. But he knew he couldn’t do that, because his little bird had the right to fly away from him at any moment, and there was really nothing he could do to stop it.  So, instead of gripping her tightly, he held her hand as softly and gently as possible, taking care not to harm her in any way, shape, or form.

Felicity led him straight from the woods to her cabin.  She didn’t ask if he wanted to go back to his place, and Oliver didn’t question her decision. He simply walked beside her, trusting her to take him where he needed to go.

When they stepped through her front door into her living room, Felicity arched up on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek.  “Make yourself at home,” she whispered beside his ear just before she disappeared down the hall. Oliver stood stiffly by the door, watching her retreating back.  He knew he couldn’t do as she’d asked him; he knew he couldn’t feel at home here without her. Because the moment she left his sight, his blood rushed furiously through his veins, robbing him of any sense of peace.  So he stood in place, raw and unnerved, until she returned.

The moment she emerged from the back rooms, Oliver could breathe again.  When Felicity saw that he hadn’t moved from that one spot, she immediately stepped toward him, with her head tilted and a gentle smile on her pink lips, and took him by the hand.  “Come with me, baby,” she encouraged, guiding him into a chair at her kitchen table. 

Oliver absorbed the sight of his little fairy as he sat down.  Felicity had changed clothes – she’d put on a pink T-shirt and navy pajama bottoms, even though it was the middle of the day – and she looked soft and warm and young. Oliver knew she’d had to put on a fresh outfit because of him, because he’d thrown her clothes on the forest floor and torn off her underwear.  And even though she’d granted him unquestioning forgiveness for everything, Oliver still hated himself for what he’d done to her.

Memories of what happened between them in the woods accosted him, and he clenched his fists and his shoulders and his jaw as he sat stiff as a stone at her kitchen table. Felicity regarded him for several moments, and then stepped up to his side, resting her chest against his arm. She reached her hand to his head and ruffled her fingers through his hair.  Then she pressed a kiss to his forehead and said, “Please don’t forget to breathe, Oliver.  I need you to breathe.”

He did as she asked. He took a deep, shuddering inhale and then exhaled slowly, allowing his icy body to seek out the heat of hers. Felicity wrapped her arms around him, cradling Oliver to her chest as he worked the air in and out of his lungs. She held onto him tight, but he was afraid to hold her back.  He was afraid to touch her at all.

Felicity started petting him then, stroking her hands gently up and down his arms, and Oliver sank farther into her, closing his eyes and allowing himself to experience her touch. Eventually, his body eased and his breathing calmed.  Eventually, he was able to reach for her hand and trace the outline of her fingers with his own. Felicity threaded their fingers together for a moment before placing another kiss to his forehead. “How about some lunch? Do you think you can eat something for me?”

“Yes,” he agreed, wanting to do something – anything – for her.

Felicity left his side just long enough to gather the lunch tray from the porch and bring it to the table. She sat on the chair beside him and picked up her sandwich, breaking it in two pieces and handing him the larger portion.  He didn’t protest. He just took the offering, and chewed and swallowed, as he watched her. 

She started talking as they ate.  She talked about the red-headed woodpecker they’d seen in the woods.  Between bites of sandwich and fruit, and long sips of iced tea, Felicity told Oliver about the bird’s nesting habits and dietary needs and how woodpeckers had evolved special anatomical qualities to protect their brains from damage while they compulsively hammered their beaks into tree trunks.

He heard a lot of what she said.  But mostly he heard her voice.  It was familiar and clear and soothing, and he could focus on it.  Her voice settled him, and grounded him, and he started to feel more comfortable touching her.  Tenderly, of course. Reverently.  He stroked the soft skin of her forearm with the tips of his fingers, amazed by her warmth, as she spoke to him. 

When they’d finished lunch, and Felicity had completed her oral report on woodpeckers, she asked Oliver if he wanted to play a board game.  He said, “Yes.” Because he would do anything that meant he could be here, with her.

Oliver walked to the hall closet as Felicity placed the empty lunch tray back on the porch. He stared at all of the games on the closet shelves for a long minute, and finally just picked the one on top. “How does _Scrabble_ sound?” he asked while stepping back to the kitchen.

“Sounds great to me,” she offered with a smile while they settled back onto the chairs around the table. Oliver smiled in return as Felicity lifted the lid off of the box.

She kicked his ass at _Scrabble_. Oliver wanted to say that it was because he was taking it easy on her, but that wasn’t true. She was just phenomenal at it, and he eventually came to the understanding that Felicity was actually the one taking it easy on him.  By the time they were done playing, the score was basically a bazillion to one.  But at least he’d learned a few new vocabulary words.

As Felicity packed the game back into the box, Oliver heard Roy’s truck coming down her gravel driveway. “I’ll go get your dinner,” Oliver offered.

Felicity grinned. “Thank you.”

Oliver stepped through the living room, out of the front door, and down the porch steps, to meet Roy as he exited the driver’s side.  The sun was setting, but even in the dim light Oliver could tell that Roy looked better now than he had this morning.  Oliver wished he could say the same for himself.  “You hanging in there today, Roy?”

“Yeah. I’m slowly realizing this isn’t the worst day of my life.  How about you?”

Oliver honestly didn’t know what today was, so he just said, “I’m still here.”

“I’m glad you are,” Roy replied, reaching into the back of the truck and pulling out two trays piled on top of each other.  “I brought your dinner over here.  I figured, when you weren’t at your cabin, that you’d be with her.”

 _You’re right; I am with her.  That much I do know._   “Thanks, Roy.”

“Anytime.”

By the time Oliver stepped back inside the cabin, Felicity had lit candles on the living room table and set two chair cushions on the floor at the base of the couch.  She looked up at him when he entered.  “Do you mind if we sit on the floor while we eat?”

Oliver nodded as he kicked the door shut behind him.  “That sounds good. Roy brought my dinner here, so there’s plenty of food.”

“Oh, wonderful. He’s so thoughtful.”

“Yeah, he is,” Oliver agreed, laying the trays down beside the candlesticks.

They situated themselves on the floor cushions, and then ate in silence, except for when Felicity hummed as she chewed, and when she offered random remarks on the tastiness of the meal and how Phil-the-chef deserved some sort of award.  Oliver just nodded in agreement.

Once they’d finished eating, and set the trays aside, Oliver pulled himself up from the floor to sit on the couch.  “Come sit with me?” he asked, reaching out his hand to her.

“Of course,” she answered, clasping onto his fingers and standing from the ground.  The only light in the cabin now came from her candles, because the world outside the windows was pitch black, and the golden glow of the flames haloed Felicity’s body as she looked down to him.  He’d never seen her more angelic, and he needed so badly to have her in his arms.  He watched as she took a step to the side, settling onto the cushion a few inches away from him.

He frowned. “You’re too far away.”

“Oliver, if I was any closer, I’d be in your lap.”

“Yes, please.”

Felicity gazed into his expectant eyes for a long moment before giving him a gentle smile. Then she eased her legs across his and scooted over, settling her bottom onto his thighs as she sat sideways on top of him.  Oliver reached one arm around her back to support her, cradling her shoulder in his hand. His other hand found its way to her legs, smoothing lightly across her pajama-covered thighs. Felicity allowed her head to fall onto his chest while her hand came to rest right over his heart, where it always found a home. 

Oliver relaxed then. He relaxed more than he had all day. Because she was here, in his arms, real and warm and solid, and he knew she wouldn’t fly away tonight.

“How is this?” Felicity questioned as her fingers curled into his shirt.

“This is perfect.”

“What would you like to do for the rest of the night?”

He stroked his hand up and down her arm.  “I just want you to talk to me some more.  Will you do that? Will you just talk to me?”

“Of course. What do you want me to talk about?”

“Anything you want. I just want to listen to you. Maybe…maybe you could tell me about Girl Scouts?”

“ _Girl Scouts?_ ” she repeated with a giggle. “Goodness gracious, Oliver, I don’t think you know what you’re asking.  I could babble about Girl Scouts for hours.”

He leaned down to press a kiss to the top of her head.  “That’s perfect, then.  I want to hear all about your scouting adventures.”

Felicity wasn’t kidding. She actually babbled about Girl Scouts for three solid hours.  Oliver learned everything she knew about trees, and birds, and pitching tents, and tying knots.  He listened to the many escapades Felicity had with her best friend Caitlin Snow, and how they liked to play Harry Potter together, except that they both wanted to be Hermione, so they just created their own wooded wizard world with two young female geniuses. Oliver paid rapt attention as Felicity recalled how her mother came on some of the camping trips while her father was busy at work, and how Donna Smoak would sit around the bonfire at night, teaching the girls how to make animal shadows with their hands in the firelight. Oliver heard every word Felicity said to him, and he loved the picture she painted.  He could almost see the girl she was, so joyful and openhearted, discovering her spirit while rummaging on an unbeaten path through the woods.

He held her the entire time she spoke.  He held her quietly and delicately, rubbing her back and caressing her arms and smoothing over her hair, as she leaned heavier and fuller against his chest.  Her words continued on and on, until they slowly began to trail off, with longer and steadier pauses between them.  Eventually, the sounds stopped entirely as her body slumped onto his and her breathing assumed a steady, even pace.

Oliver knew she’d dozed off, but he didn’t dare twitch a muscle for fear of disturbing her peace. Or his.  After several more minutes, tiny snores escaped her throat, and yet her fierce little fist still held tight over his heart.  He refused to move her yet, because if Felicity wanted to hold onto him, even in her sleep, then he was damn well going to sit here and let her.

He peered down at his forest fairy as her mouth hung open just slightly against his shirt and her gold curls spread out across his shoulder.  This image of her struck deep, like an arrow through his chest, because Oliver was intensely aware of the fact that he’d never felt her sleeping in his arms before this moment.  He’d never laid beside her in a bed.  He’d never made love to her. Hell, what he’d done to her in the forest today was almost the exact opposite of making love, and Oliver knew he needed to make that up to her.  Because Felicity was precious, and he wanted her safe and sound and happy. Always happy.

She hadn’t been happy today. Because today, he’d made her cry. Felicity should have been crying because of how callous and rough he’d been with her, but instead she’d cried in fear of him leaving her.  Which made him realize that, the entire time he’d been using her body, she actually believed he was going to walk away when he’d finished.  And still, despite that belief, she’d lain there and given herself to him, and he’d never met anyone so generous or selfless in his whole entire life. 

Oliver didn’t know how his little fairy even existed, let alone how she came to be here with him. He didn’t know why she picked _him_ , of all the men in the world, to share her love and joy and trust with.  All he knew was that he had to cherish her, to cherish every moment she allowed him to have with her.

So he sat there, as she snored and clung to his shirt.  He sat there, just feeling her in his arms.  And then he glanced to the far wall, where she’d hung the photo she’d taken of her bird.  He remembered how excited she was the day she’d showed it to him – how she’d fretted over whether or not the picture was straight, and how she’d asked for his help aligning the frame on the knotty wall.  Felicity had never mentioned the yellow-crowned purple fantini again…not since the night she’d agreed to stop lying to him.  Oliver was more certain now than ever that the bird didn’t exist.  And yet, she’d still taken the photo, and nailed that picture frame right into the wall, and he couldn’t help wondering what significance the blurry green-and-yellow image held for her.  He wondered what she saw in the photo that he couldn’t see.

Oliver knew something had happened to her in the past, something that stole the color red away, and he wanted desperately to know what it was.  But he didn’t want to hurt her by asking again, especially after she’d promised in the woods today not to question him further about his past. If she wasn’t going to push him anymore, then he didn’t want to push her, either.  Instead, he wanted to be tender and loving with her, allowing her to work out her problems with him beside her, supporting her in any way he could.

Felicity went completely limp in Oliver’s arms then, and her hand finally fell from his chest onto her lap. He was pretty sure she’d drooled a bit on his shirt, but he still didn’t want to move from this spot. He just wanted to stay here and keep holding her for as long as he could.  But then, when Nearly Comatose Felicity began mumbling unintelligible words, Oliver begrudgingly acknowledged the fact that she needed to be resting in a soft, comfortable bed. 

Gathering her close to his heart, Oliver lifted his freebird into his arms and stood from the couch. He took a moment to balance himself, because his legs were unsteady from sitting with her for so long and he didn’t want to drop her.  He would never forgive himself if he let her fall.

Oliver carried her through the living room, down the hall, and into her bedroom. As he stepped through the doorway, he was acutely aware that this was the first time he’d ever been in her bedroom. He wished he’d gotten here under different circumstances.

The room was dark, and he stepped carefully over to her mattress.  He eased Felicity down onto the green-and-red plaid comforter, and then watched as she instantly curled into a little ball on her side.  Oliver wanted nothing more than to lay with her, and curl up around her, and be the big spoon to her small one, and then wake in the morning with a sleepy little fairy in his arms.  But he couldn’t do that, because she hadn’t actually invited him into her bedroom, and he didn’t want the first night he spent here to be without her knowledge or her desire.

Oliver covered her tiny body with a throw blanket he found at the end of the bed, tucking the hunter green fabric in around her sides.  Then he leaned down to press a kiss to her temple.  Felicity shifted with the light scratch of his chin stubble against her skin.

“Wi’you come dinner ‘morrow, Ol’ver?” she breathed.

He smiled into her hair. “Yes, baby, I’ll be here for dinner tomorrow.  Now get some sleep, please.”

“Hmm…’kay.”

He watched her for another moment, watched her snuggle her face farther into the soft fabric beneath her cheek. Then he turned and walked out of her bedroom. He strode through her living room, and out her front door, and down her porch stairs.  He marched up her gravel driveway, and across the deserted main road, and then down his own driveway. 

When he reached his cabin, Oliver stepped inside and shut the door behind him.  He moved immediately over to the table where the old-fashioned phone sat.  And then he picked up the receiver and dialed the front desk.

Pete’s voice came promptly across the line.  “This is Blissful Blue; how can I help you?”

Oliver sighed in relief. “Oh good, it’s…it’s still you, Pete. I was worried you wouldn’t be there, since it’s so late.” 

“I’m always around, Oliver. You doing okay tonight? You sound a bit off.”

He shook his head. “I just…I need to, um…” Oliver’s voice trailed into silence, and he could hear the little gnome breathing on the other end of the phone.

Pete cleared his throat. “You know, Dr. Lance has an appointment available tomorrow at 1 p.m.  How does that sound?”

“God, that…that actually sounds perfect.” 

“Alright, Oliver. I’ve got you scheduled, then. Cabin 13, tomorrow at 1.”

“Thank you, Pete.”

“Of course. You get some rest, now.”

He nodded. “I will.”

“’Night, Oliver.”

“’Night, Pete.”

Oliver hung up the phone. He only stared at the receiver for another minute.  Then he dragged himself to his bedroom, collapsed on the comforter, and dropped instantly into sleep.

 …

When Oliver woke the next morning, his first thought was of Felicity.  And his second thought.  And third. Pretty much every thought he had all morning was of her, except for the few that were of his therapy appointment.

Oliver was ready to see the _doctor_ today. The word didn’t even make him want to vomit, not like it normally would.  He was ready now, ready to start putting things back together again. Felicity had given him that ability. She’d given him everything. And he had no idea if he’d given her _anything_. But he was going to try. For the next two weeks they had together on this mountain, Oliver was going to try to be everything she needed. He could barely stomach the idea of walking away from Blue without her, but if he really had to, then he wanted to know that he’d done some good for her before he left.

After dragging himself out of bed, Oliver threw on his gym clothes and headed out to see Tommy for their ritual morning basketball game.  He expected his dark-haired friend to already be warming up on the court, but when Oliver arrived, the blacktop was empty.  He scanned the courtyard for a moment before spotting Tommy on a bench near the woods behind the gym.  As Oliver approached, he noticed the slump of his friend’s shoulders and the shifting of his fingers.

“Hey, buddy, you doing okay this morning?”

Tommy lifted his head, looking up at Oliver with wide, sad eyes.  “Oh, hey Oliver.  I wasn’t sure you were gonna show today.”

“Yeah, sorry about yesterday; I had somewhere I needed to be.  But I’m up for a game today, if you are.”

“I, um…I don’t know about that.”

Oliver sat down beside his friend on the thick log bench.  “Why not?”

Tommy huffed out a laugh. “You’re gonna think I’m ridiculous if I tell you.”

“I’m not going to think you’re ridiculous.  It’s obvious something has you upset, and I know I’m not a therapist, but you can talk to me if you want to.”

“Thanks, man,” Tommy sighed. “It’s just…it’s Helena. She’s gone.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me too. God, it’s not like I didn’t know it was coming.  I knew she only had a week left here when I met her, but I still feel like dirt now that she’s actually gone. Worst part is, I know it’s my own fault. I get too attached to women when I’m up here; it’s one of the pitfalls of this place, and I know that. I’ve known it for years. And yet, I still do it.”

Oliver cringed as he listened, and it was all he could do to try to stay supportive. “You shouldn’t…you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself.  You can’t always control your emotions.  Sometimes you want things that just aren’t possible.”

“Yeah, but I _knew_ it wasn’t possible.  I live in New York; she lives in California.  What was I going to do?  Convince her to move across the country after knowing me for only a week?”

Oliver clenched his jaw. He didn’t even know where Felicity lived. She could be visiting here from Timbuktu, for all he knew _._ “Isn’t there any way to see her after you leave?  Long distance relationships are difficult, but I think you could make it work, if you tried hard enough.” _I have a company jet.  I could fly to Timbuktu if I had to._

“No, man,” Tommy said with a firm shake of his head.  “It’s finished. I just have to accept it and move on.”

“Maybe you don’t.”

“No, I do. I appreciate the wishful thinking, but I need to just deal with the fact that she’s gone, and then keep moving forward.”

Oliver swallowed hard against the bile pushing up into his throat.  “I guess that’s…that’s the right answer, isn’t it?  Relationships that start up here aren’t meant to last beyond these mountains.”  After all, that’s what Roy and Felicity had told him, and Oliver was 100% certain that it was the truth. Well, maybe he was more like 70% certain.  Or possibly less.

“Yeah, you’re right.” Tommy exhaled, and then patted Oliver on the back.  “Thanks for bringing me back to reality, buddy.”

He gritted his teeth. “Yeah, sure…anytime.”

“Now, what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Why are you so upset today?”

Oliver’s brow arched. “Do I look upset?”

“Right now you do.”

“Oh, well, it’s…it’s nothing.” _God help me, I still don’t want you to know about Felicity_. “I just have a therapy appointment today.”

“An appointment? Well, that’s nothing to be upset about – I think it’s great that you’re actually going to give it a try. You know, the doctors up here take turns giving lectures; we could go to some together, if that would make it easier for you.”

“I appreciate the offer, Tommy, I really do.  I just think I need to start out by myself.  I’m going to try some one-on-one.”

“Who are you seeing?”

“Dr. Lance?”

“Oh, nice choice; he’s really good.  Super strict, of course. He’s the big boss at Blue. I’ve always wanted him to like me. Probably because of some sort of latent desire for my father’s approval that I transferred over to Dr. Lance because he’s in charge.”

Oliver chuckled. “That’s a nice self diagnosis.”

Tommy shrugged. “You get pretty good at self diagnosis when you’ve been in therapy as long as I have. But I’m happy for you, Oliver. I think it’s great that you’re going to see him.”

“Thanks, Tommy.”

“You’re welcome. And thank you.”

Oliver glanced to his friend’s face.  “What for?”

“For helping me realize that I need to move on from Helena.  That realization is going to make things so much easier for me tonight.”

“Yeah? What’s tonight?”

“Oh, I have a date with Isabel tonight.”

Oliver’s brow furrowed. “But…I thought you were upset about Helena leaving.”

“God, yeah, I am. But what better way to get over a woman than to be with another woman?”

He stared at Tommy for a long minute. _How can you even think that?  Fuck me, I can’t even imagine being with any woman but Felicity._ “Tommy, I don’t…I don’t know if that’s a very healthy thought.”

“Sure it is, Oliver. We all have our coping mechanisms; this is mine.  Now, how about some basketball?”

Oliver watched as Tommy stood from the bench.  He rose slowly to meet him. “Sure.  We can play some ball.”

“Let’s go, then; time’s wasting,” Tommy insisted as he stepped toward the blacktop.

“Coming,” Oliver replied, doing his best to just put one foot in front of the other.

 …

After playing the worst game of basketball ever in the history of the sport, Oliver left a smiling Tommy on the blacktop and proceeded back to his cabin to shower and eat lunch.  At quarter-to-one, Oliver left his cabin and proceeded up the hill toward Cabin 13. When he passed Cabin 10, his body veered toward Felicity’s driveway of it’s own volition.

Oliver had to pull himself away, because he had somewhere else to be.  And because he wasn’t supposed to see her until dinner. And because, after his talk with Tommy, Oliver was blatantly aware of just how attached he’d become to his little fairy, and how horrible it was going to be when she inevitably left him. Not that he hadn’t already figured out that terrifying truth for himself, but seeing Tommy’s morose expression this morning painted it in a much starker light. 

He fisted his fingers as he continued trudging up the mountain.  Oliver had been more than a little lost and confused since the woods yesterday, but there was one thing he knew with absolute certainty: watching Felicity walk away from him would tear a fucking hole in his heart. 

Oliver shuddered, his entire body trembling in fear of that moment.  _Get it together, man. You can’t think about that right now; you have other things to do at this moment.  Besides, you still have two weeks left with her. Well, more like thirteen days now. But still…you have time._

He attempted to feel reassured by that thought as he moved past Tommy’s driveway and then further up.  He focused on his breathing, and tried to concentrate on the assuredness of his footsteps, as he worked his way toward Cabin 13.  When he finally reached the large log structure, he moved up the porch steps and then paused for a moment at the front door.

Then he took a deep breath and stepped inside.

Cabin 13 was just as he remembered it from the night of the Social, large and open and strangely welcoming. A few people buzzed through the vast rooms, nodding at him and offering warm hellos.  He took note of their general appearance of contentment, and had to admit that everyone here looked far more relaxed than he’d ever been.

An older, grey-haired woman in a white, high-collared blouse and a flowing red skirt approached him from an adjoining room.  “May I help you, dear?”

Oliver cleared his throat.  “Yes, please. I have an appointment with Dr. Lance.”

He watched the glint in the woman’s pale eyes and the rosiness on her crinkled cheeks as she smiled up to him. “Oh, you must be Oliver,” she sang. “Pete told me you would be here.”

Oliver couldn’t help grinning as Mrs. Claus took him by the arm and led him into the next room, because he wondered if Pete enjoyed more than just talking with this woman. A gnome and a Claus should have plenty in common.

She guided him down a long hallway, ending in a closed white door.  “Here is his office, honey.  You just head right in.”

“Thank you so much…I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name?”

“Betsy.”

“Thank you, Betsy. Please tell Pete I said hello the next time you talk to him.”

She grinned as she gave his arm a squeeze.  “Oh, I will. And you be sure to create a wonderful day for yourself, Oliver.”

“I’ll…I’ll try.”

Oliver waited until Betsy bustled back where she came from before turning to the door and reaching for the brass handle.  He knocked as he entered, his eyes scanning the room while his feet stepped forward. “Come on in,” he heard a man’s voice say as he made his way into the brightly lit room and closed the door behind him.

Oliver’s eyes looked first to the large office windows, focusing for a moment on the surrounding forest, before he turned to the man behind the proverbial curtain. Quentin Lance sat in a deep, brown leather office chair, looking up to Oliver across a neatly organized desk. He gave a courteous nod and a brief smile, and then said, “Hello, Mr. Queen.”

Oliver shook his head immediately.  “Please…just Oliver.”

“Alright, Oliver,” the doctor said as he stood and extended his hand over the desktop.

Oliver reciprocated the firm handshake, scanning the middle-aged man’s angular features and discerning eyes before releasing his hand and straightening.

“You can call me Quentin, if you like.”

“No, it’s…do you mind if I call you ‘doctor’?”

“I don’t mind at all.”

“Good, because I think I need that.  I’ve been resisting therapy for so long, and I want to embrace it now.  I want to accept the fact that I’m talking to a physician because I need help.”

“Okay. Well, why don’t you sit down, so we can talk about the help you need.”

Oliver looked over to the high-backed brown chair across from Lance’s desk. “Actually, I’d prefer to stand…if that’s okay.”

“Of course it’s okay. This is for you, so do what you need to do to feel comfortable.”

Oliver nodded, and took a deep breath, and walked over to the window.  “You know, the guests I met at the Social spoke very highly of you, Dr. Lance.”

“Well, that’s good to hear, although we have a great deal of talented physicians up here. I’m just fortunate to call Blissful Blue my home, instead of coming and going from the city.”

“I imagine it would be nice to stay here awhile,” Oliver said, his eyes scanning the forest outside for another moment before shifting to the framed certificates that hung on the wall.  He skimmed over the bold print of the closest document:  _Dr. Quentin Lance, Medical Director, Blissful Blue Retreat._  

“So, I understand that you’re the boss up here?” Oliver questioned as he turned back toward the older man.

Dr. Lance shrugged. “In a way.  I coordinate the physicians who come here, make sure everything is in order for the guests.  I like to think I run a tight ship.  What about you, Oliver?”

“What about me?”

“I know you’re the CEO of Queen Consolidated in Starling.  Do you run a tight ship?”

Oliver smiled softly to himself.  “Yeah, I do. Honestly, I’m a complete control freak.”

“I see. Would you like to talk about that?”

“I suppose I would. Or, at least, I should,” Oliver admitted as he stepped back toward the doctor.  A photo on Lance’s desk caught his eye and he looked over the faces of the two young women he saw.  “Are these your daughters?”

Quentin nodded. “Yeah, that’s Laurel and Sara, my baby girls. They’re both grown women now, much as I hate to admit it.  Do you have children, Oliver?”

He shook his head. “No, I don’t.”

“Do you want them?”

Oliver looked back to Dr. Lance’s searching eyes.  “Yeah, I do. But I’m not married. I want to be, but…”

“But what?”

His shoulders fell on a sigh. “Apparently, I need to work a few issues out first.” 

“What issues?”

“It’s just…something happened, a long time ago.  Something happened, and I honestly believed I’d put it behind me.  But I realize now that I haven’t, and I need to figure out how to work through it, because it’s affecting the way I live my life. I want to fix it, so I can move on.”

Quentin nodded slowly. “Okay, Oliver. I can help with that.”

Oliver felt his legs buckle, and he eased down into the chair opposite Lance.  “Thank you, doctor.  That’s…that’s wonderful.”

 …

Oliver stood in his cabin several hours later, dressed in a hunter green button-down shirt and tan cargo pants, waiting for night to fall.  Because he knew, the moment it got dark, that he would get to see his Frolicking Freebird.  He would get to see his Felicity, and hold her gently in his arms, and look into her adoring eyes, and feel whole again.

Not that Oliver felt entirely broken. Actually, right this moment, he felt pretty good.  The session with Dr. Lance went better than he expected.  It wasn’t easy to recount the story of what had happened with Carrie in high school, but it was easier to repeat the words today because he’d said them to Felicity just yesterday. Honestly, it was harder for Oliver to talk to Lance about the twin sisters he’d been fucking the day of homecoming dance, especially after seeing the photo on the doctor’s desk.  But Lance didn’t seem to judge him, at least not outwardly. Oliver figured the good doctor was probably just happy that they weren’t his own daughters.

Oliver and Quentin had spoken for several hours, and at the end of their session, Oliver asked him one single question.  He asked Dr. Lance if he thought a person like the one he’d been – a person who’d been that blind and that selfish for so long – deserved a loving woman and children. He asked if a person like that deserved a family.

Dr. Lance answered his question with another question:  _What do you think, Oliver?_

Oliver shook his head with the recent memory now, as he looked out of his living room window. He knew Dr. Lance was right; he had to find his own answers to a lot of things.  The good news was that Lance would help him figure out how to do that. He would help him figure out the right questions to ask, and show him the right path to take, so he could finally find the life he’d been searching for.  And it was all because of Felicity.  It was all because she’d showed Oliver what he couldn’t see, and helped him understand what was broken. 

He just prayed that he hadn’t broken _her_ in the process.

With that harrowing thought, Oliver strode to his front door and stepped out onto the porch. Closing the latch behind him, he bounded down the stairs and began walking up his driveway.  It was almost dusk, and he knew it was a bit early to show up to her cabin for dinner, but he couldn’t wait any longer. He had to see his little bird. He had to see her, and talk to her, and hold her.  He had to be with her, because there was no other option for him.

When he came to the end of his driveway, Oliver turned up onto the paved road, his eyes forward as he moved eagerly toward Cabin 10.  Anticipation spread through his body, and his fingers stretched as he imagined holding her again.  The thought made his heart beat faster in his chest, and the sound of his pounding pulse nearly drowned out the sound of whistling from up ahead.  But then Oliver heard the whistling, and he remembered hearing it on this road before, and he froze in place.

Oliver watched in horror as Tommy Merlyn stepped off the gravel of Felicity’s driveway and turned to his right, moving up the pavement toward his own Cabin 11.  Tommy didn’t look back, and didn’t see Oliver standing a few yards down the hill.  And that was probably a good thing, because if looks could kill, Tommy would most certainly be dead. Like, _dead_ dead.  With knives and bullets in his chest. Or maybe arrows, because they would hurt more.

Oliver’s entire body shook as he watched the other man walk away from Felicity’s cabin. The words Tommy had uttered to him just a few hours ago rang in his ears:  _What better way to get over a woman than to be with another woman?_

Oliver shook his head, over and over again.  _Good God, is Tommy trying to use Felicity to get over Helena?_

That had better not be the truth.  Because, if it were, then Oliver couldn’t be held responsible for what he would do to Tommy if that man had laid one hand on his Felicity.  Even if Felicity had agreed to having Tommy’s hands on her.  Which she actually had every right to do, because Oliver certainly didn’t own her.

Holy fuck, he needed to vomit.

Oliver’s legs started working then.  He began moving, nearly running, up the rest of the hill and then down her driveway. He tried to tell himself to calm the hell down as he rushed toward her, but it was hard to hear his own thoughts over the pounding of blood in his veins.  When Oliver reached her porch steps, he grasped the door handle beneath his fingers and stilled himself, taking several deep breaths before opening the door.

“Felicity?” he questioned, his voice little more than a growl as he stepped inside. “Where are you?” _Please don’t let her be coming from the bedroom.  And please let her be fully clothed._

“Oliver! I’m so happy to see you,” she sang.

His eyes drew to the sound of her voice immediately, and found her standing in the kitchen, in front of the counter.  She looked just beautiful, especially with all her clothes on.  She smiled up at him as he stepped toward her, and Oliver noticed that she had a large chef’s knife in her hand and was busy preparing food. For dinner.  _Their_ dinner.

“I’m sorry I can’t come over to kiss you right now,” she apologized.  “But you’re here a bit early, and I’m still working on dinner. I was trying to do something to surprise you.”

Oliver’s shoulders relaxed a bit as he stared down to her hands.  Looking across the countertop, he watched Felicity returned her attention to the partially carved steak in front of her.  There was an ivory china dinner plate beside it, already covered in several bite-size pieces of the juicy meat, and Felicity now used the chef’s knife in her hand to dissect even more pieces.  The presentation of the steak was quite meticulous, and Oliver could tell she’d been at the task for a while, which made his muscles relax further.

“Do you mind another steak dinner, Oliver?  You said it’s your favorite, and you really didn’t get a whole steak the other night, so I thought I’d try to fix that,” she explained as she carved.  “But you weren’t supposed to be here just yet.”

“Was Tommy Merlyn supposed to be here?” he bit out, immediately pressing his lips together after he’d said the words.

Felicity’s brow rose as she looked up at him from across the countertop. 

“I’m sorry,” Oliver offered. “It’s none of my business, I suppose.”

She exhaled slowly. “I guess you saw Tommy leaving?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“He wasn’t supposed to be here, you know; he just wanted to talk.  I’ve known Tommy for many years, and he feels comfortable around me. He was upset today and he needed an ear.”

Oliver listened to her voice as he looked into her eyes.  He could see the truth of her words written inside that sky blue, and he regretted his jealous accusation.  Especially since he knew Tommy was hurting this morning, and that he’d probably just needed Felicity’s friendship.  Just like Roy had needed Felicity’s friendship the day before.  People simply relied on her, and Oliver understood that feeling. Dear God, he understood that feeling so starkly and painfully.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, dropping his head for a moment before looking back to her eyes. “I apologize for asking, Felicity. It’s blatantly obvious that everyone up here at Blue trusts you and depends on you, and I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. I’ve just spent some time with Tommy, and I had trouble controlling my jealousy when I saw him leave your driveway.”

“ _Jealousy_?” she repeated, her eyes widening as if he’d said the most bizarre thing she’d ever heard.  “You were jealous of me and Tommy?  Seriously?”

He exhaled harshly. “Yes, seriously. You’re an amazing, beautiful, loving woman, and I know we’ve only known each other for eight days, but I don’t particularly want to share you with another man.”  _Ever_ , he added in his mind, but didn’t say it aloud. 

Felicity giggled then. She giggled with twinkling eyes and an effervescent smile, and Oliver huffed.  “I’m glad my jealousy amuses you, Felicity.”

“Oh, no…no, it doesn’t. It’s just that you have no idea how funny that is.  Because Tommy Merlyn is so completely _not_ my type. I mean, I don’t even think I could possibly explain to you how _not_ my type he is.  _At all_.”

Oliver’s brow furrowed, because at first glance he’d considered Tommy and himself to be pretty much the same person, in two different bodies.  “Well, if he’s not your type, then who is your type?”

Felicity smiled to herself while she set the carving knife down and stepped to the sink to wash her hands. “I thought that would be pretty obvious by now,” she mused as she turned off the water and dried her hands on a towel.  When she’d finished her task, Felicity squared her shoulders and stared across the countertop into his eyes. “You are the only man I want to be with, Oliver.”

God, those were the best words he’d ever heard.  Even if they were only temporary.  “Well, good. Because you’re the only woman I want to be with.”

“Well, good,” she echoed, still staring into him, unflinching.

Oliver knew she meant every word she said.  And he sure as hell meant every word he said.  Which made him shake his head again at the absurdity of these raw, overwhelming, fucking magnificent feelings.  “Good Lord, this is crazy,” he muttered.

“What’s crazy?”

Oliver ran a rough hand through his hair as he stared across the counter at her bright eyes and her luscious mouth and her sweet face.  “All of _this_.  Does it…does it freak you out?”

“Does what freak me out?”

He motioned his hand between the two of them.  “This? Us?  Does this…” _Damn it, I don’t know what word to use._   “Does this _attraction_ we have for each other ever freak you out?”

She nibbled against her lip for a moment before nodding.  “It did, especially at first.  But since the night we decided to become lovers, I’ve been trying to let that concern go. Because I want to experience this with you.  What we have is unlike anything I’ve ever known, and yes, it’s scary, but I want to feel that. I want to feel everything I can possibly feel with you, Oliver, because I know I’m alive when I’m with you. And I want to be as close to you as I can be.”

The emotion in her eyes hit dead center in his chest and Oliver huffed out a laugh. “Well, who knows, baby, with as close as we’ve become in just one week, in another two weeks we could end up married.”

The minute the words left his lips, her face fell.  Oliver watched the light in her eyes dim, and he immediately regretted his impulsiveness. “I…I didn’t mean to upset you, Felicity. The marriage thing was just a joke.”

She grimaced as she watched him. “I know it was a joke, Oliver; that’s not why I’m upset. There’s just something that I need to tell you, something I really don’t want to say.”

Oliver fisted his hands at his sides.  “What is it?”

Felicity took a deep breath. “I only…I only have six more days left on vacation.”

His brow rose as his jaw slackened.  “Wh-what do mean? Don’t most people spend three weeks up here?  I thought that was the standard stay.”

“Yes, it is, but I’d already been here for a week when we met.”

Oliver cringed, because that made perfect sense.  Felicity came walking out of the woods the day he’d arrived, which meant she’d already been here, communing with nature, well before he ever showed up. He should have figured that out on his own, except that he probably hadn’t wanted to.  And he honestly couldn’t bear to think about it now.

He looked down to the ground, and then pinched his eyes shut, as he worked to inhale. He tried to fight the hollow feeling that settled into his chest, but it took over, and for a split second he lost sight of everything.  “But, Felicity, I can’t…I can’t survive on this mountain without you.”

Oliver’s heart thumped painfully against his ribcage, and he couldn’t hear anything but the blood rushing through his body.  But then Felicity moved, and he focused in on the sound of her bare padded footsteps as she came around the counter.  A moment later, he felt the warmth of her body pressing into his chest. 

“Look at me,” she whispered, waiting patiently until he lifted his head.  Once he met her gaze, she smiled up at him with tender determination.  “You _can_ survive without me, Oliver.  Because you’re strong.  You’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever met in my life, and you can do anything you set your mind to.”

He watched Felicity’s eyes widen as she looked up to him and he could practically hear her thoughts: _Please, Oliver…I need to know that you’re going to be okay._

Oliver reached to her shoulders, stroking his hands lightly all the way down her arms until he reached her fingers and threaded them inside his own.  “You’re right; I’m going to be okay,” he reassured her, because he knew it wasn’t fair to set the burden of his survival on her shoulders.  And because he knew he _could_ survive without her…he just didn’t want to.

Felicity gave him a tremulous smile.  “Are you sure?”

“I am. Because I did something really good today.  At least, I think it was good.”

“Yeah? What did you do?”

“I…I went to see Dr. Lance. For therapy.”

Felicity’s hands squeezed onto his, so tight it actually caused him pain.  Her eyes filled with tears, gigantic brimming drops that made her sky blue shine even brighter.  And she gasped in a breath, and then stilled, before grinning as big a grin as he’d ever seen on anyone.  “Really? Did you really do that, Oliver?”

He stood there for a moment, absorbing her hopeful, joyous, adoring gaze, and then he nodded. “Yes, I went to see him. I told him about Carrie. I told him everything. He’s going to help me. He’s going to help me learn how to fix the things in my life that are broken.”

Felicity pressed her lips together, as if trying to physically contain all of the emotion inside her body, and then her forehead fell onto his chest as her fingers trembled inside his. “Thank you, Oliver,” she breathed against him.  “Thank you so much.”

He extracted one of his hands from hers in order run his fingers through her hair.  “Why are you thanking me?  I should definitely be the one thanking you.”

She shook her head and then lifted her eyes back to his.  “I just…I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but I’m so proud of you.”

“How could I take that the wrong way?  I know you want the best for me. I think I’ve always known that, from the first day you found me.”

Felicity eased up on her toes and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.  “You’re wonderful.  Do you know that?  Have I told you just how wonderful you are?”

Oliver pulled Felicity closer to him with his hands pressed against her spine.  He wanted to smile with her words.  He wanted to hold her beautiful words close to his chest – as close as he now held her body – but he knew he couldn’t.  Because he’d hurt her just yesterday, and even though she’d forgiven him, he knew he didn’t deserve her praise today.

Felicity snuggled closer to him, tilting her face up to his.  She smiled into his eyes just before pressing a kiss to his lips. Oliver kissed her back, gentle and tender and loving, needing to keep his actions as innocent as possible. Needing to treat her like the precious gift she was.

She seemed to enjoy the soft pressure of his lips, at least for a few moments. But then Oliver felt her body slide harder against his, felt her arms tightening around his neck, felt her fingers pushing into his hair.  He heard the little moan in the back of her throat as her tongue eased past his lips and into his mouth.

Oliver couldn’t help tasting her.  He couldn’t help winding his tongue with hers, just for a second or two.  Or three.  But then he eased away, loosening his hold on her body and resituating himself in order to press his forehead onto hers and nudge the tip of her nose with his own.

“Mmm…kiss me again, please,” she urged in a heated whisper.

He complied, but just with the briefest, most tender touch of lips that he could manage.

Felicity stilled inside his arms.  She huffed out a little laugh.  And then she raised her head to look into his eyes.  “You need to leave now, Oliver.”

His brow furrowed. “Excuse me?”

She untangled her arms from his body and took a step back.  “Just for a few minutes.  I meant what I said before; you really did show up too early tonight.  I have a surprise for you, and I wasn’t able to finish it before you came through the door, so now you need to leave for a bit so I can finish getting it ready.”

“But, Felicity, I don’t need surprises.  I’ll be perfectly happy sitting on the couch and holding you tonight…just like last night.”

“Oliver, last night you listened to me babble for hours on end, and then I fell asleep on you. Like, literally _on_ you.  Which I’m sorry about, by the way.  I hope I didn’t snore.”

“You may have snored a bit.”

“Dear God, that’s horrible. I so did not need to know that.”

“Then I probably shouldn’t mention the drool.”

“Holy hell.”

Oliver grinned. “It was adorable. I liked it.  I’d like a repeat performance, actually.”

Felicity shook her head. “Nope.  Nope, nope.  Not going to happen.  I have plans for us tonight and you need to step outside for them to happen.”

“But, baby…”

“Outside! Now, please.  Just stand on the porch and I will yell for you when I’m ready.”

Oliver was all set to protest again, but then she arched one eyebrow and stared him down, and his shoulders fell in defeat.  “Okay, Felicity, I will go wait on the porch.”

“Good. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he sighed as he turned and walked back to the door.  He stepped outside, into the cool air, and closed the latch behind him. 

Night had descended rapidly while he’d been inside her cabin, and Oliver took a few steps forward, in order to look up past the treetops to the clear sky littered with stars. He stood there for several minutes, just gazing up to the tiny lights and wondering what his forest fairy had planned for him tonight.  He hoped it wasn’t anything too indecent, because he was going to have enough trouble keeping things gentle and chaste between them without her being in latent-dominatrix mode.

Frolicking Freebird Felicity may still want to explore her sexual fantasies, but Oliver didn’t think he could indulge her after what happened between them in the woods yesterday. She was just so sweet and so pure, and he wanted to show her that he appreciated those things about her. He wanted to show her that he was more than the devouring monster she’d seen.

“I’m ready now!” Felicity yelled from beyond the logs.

Oliver took one last look at the stars, and then took a deep breath in, as he turned to the door and pushed it slowly open.  When he stepped back into the cabin, the first thing he noticed was that the temperature was warmer, and he knew she’d turned the thermostat up again.  The next thing he noticed was that Felicity had turned the lights off, and lit candles on the living room table.  He didn’t see his little bird at first, but his eyes kept searching through the flickering yellow glow until he found her.

Felicity lay on the couch. Belly down.  Completely naked.  With the plate of carved-up steak morsels situated right over the small of her back.

Oliver closed the door behind him, but remained where he stood, several feet away from her. He cleared his throat. “What is all this?”

She peered up to his eyes over the couch’s log hand rest.  “Do you remember the night I tied you up, Oliver?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever forget that, honestly.”

She smiled wildly, and it lit her eyes.  “Well, that night you mentioned that you would like to eat your steak dinner off of my backside. So I thought I would provide you the opportunity to do that.”

Oliver groaned with the salacious look in her eyes.  Then his eyes traced down the gorgeous curve of her spine, and over the plate of food, and onto the perfectly round mounds of her ass cheeks.  He licked his lips, and his fingers clenched at his sides, but he didn’t move from where he stood.  “This just…it isn’t necessary.  I really appreciate the effort, but why don’t we just sit on the couch and eat a nice meal tonight?  I can go get your robe for you.”

Felicity stared at him for a long minute, and then rolled her eyes.  “I don’t want my robe.  I want to be here on this couch, completely naked, with you eating your dinner off of my backside.  Because you said you wanted that, and I want you to have that.”

“But you don’t have to do this for me.”

“I know I don’t _have_ to.  I _want_ to. Now please come over here and eat your dinner.”

Oliver clenched his teeth as he stared at her scrumptious ass.  “Felicity, this is too tempting.  It isn’t…it isn’t safe.  I don’t want to hurt you again.” 

She met his gaze with determination.  “You are not going to hurt me, Oliver, and I want you to stop thinking you are. I want you to stop feeling guilty.”

He pressed his lips together. He wanted to tell her guilt wasn’t the problem, but that would be an absolute lie, so he remained silent.

Felicity sighed. “I know you still feel guilty about what happened yesterday.”

“You’re right. I do.”

“Even though I swore you didn’t hurt me?”

Oliver grimaced. “It’s…it’s hard for me to accept that.”

“Baby, do you remember the night you made me promise to be honest with you?  Because I remember it.  The exact words you said to me were, ‘I want to know that every word coming out of your ungodly gorgeous mouth is the truth.’  I remember those words distinctly, because they were so intense, and because you are so intense, and what I felt as I looked at you then was both sensual and painful.  I’d never experienced those two feelings at the same time before, and I knew at that moment what I would be getting into if we decided to become lovers.”

“You knew…and yet you still agreed to become my lover?”

“I did. I went into this with my eyes open, and they’re still open.  And I swear to you, from the moment I promised to be honest with you, that I haven’t uttered a single lie.  You _did not_ hurt me in the woods yesterday.  I need you to understand that, because I don’t want your concern over it to prevent you from enjoying the little time we have left together.  You told me yesterday that you were going to be rough with me, and I accepted that.  I accept _you_.  So if you still need to be rough, then just let me know, and I swear I will tell you to stop if I need to.  Because I trust you, Oliver. I utterly, completely trust you to stop yourself if I tell you that I don’t like something we’re doing with each other.”

Oliver heard her words, but he couldn’t accept them, no matter how sincere she looked. He shook his head, over and over again, as images from the forest flooded his mind.  “Felicity, what happened in those woods yesterday…it fucking _terrified_ me.”

“I know it did. It was a scary thing. But I’m not afraid. I’m still here.”

“I know you are. And I don’t really know why. I just want to prove to you that I can be different than that.  I want to prove to you that I can change.”

“But I don’t want you to change who you are.  I don’t want you to feel guilty about your needs, and I sure as hell don’t want you to hide your nature from me.  You’re a sexually aggressive person and I love that.  Honestly, it’s just one item on the ridiculously long list of things I love about you. So please just be yourself, because that’s what I want.  I want you.”

Oliver stared at his fairy, looking into her determined blue eyes, trying to comprehend her words. He stared at her for the longest time, amazed by her undiluted acceptance.  And he wanted nothing more than to believe her, and to be real and honest with her in every way.

“Please, Oliver,” she echoed. “I just want _you_.”

He took a deep breath in and then released it slowly.  He looked over her perfect form, and all her luscious curves, and her simply gorgeous, enchanting smile, and he felt his muscles start to ease.  “Do you…do you really have a ridiculously long list of things you love about me?”

“Yes. I do.”

“How ridiculous is it?”

“Like, ridiculously ridiculous.”

“Hmm. I thought you’d come up with a more creative adverb than that, _Scrabble_ queen.”

Her eyebrow arched. “You know, you are seriously starting to frustrate me, Oliver.”

“Am I?” he questioned, unable to prevent himself from grinning.

“Yes, you are.”

“Really? Why is that?” 

“Because you’re still standing by the door, just chatting away with me like I’m your _Scrabble_ buddy – which I love being, by the way – but that doesn’t mean I can’t be more.  A lot more. And I am getting incredibly frustrated by the fact that you still haven’t taken a single step toward me, even though I’m lying here naked.  I mean, I’m _completely_ _naked_ , Oliver, and you’re not doing anything about it. I don’t want to be treated like I’m a china doll.”

“I’m not treating you like a china doll.”

“Yes you are! You’ve been treating me like porcelain since we walked out of those woods!  But I am not made of glass, and you are not going to break me! So pick your damn feet up, get the hell over here, and eat your dinner off my ass like you said you wanted to!”

Oliver’s brow shot up at the forcefulness of her words.  He couldn’t help admiring the tenacity in her eyes and her voice as she made her demands.  He’d honestly never been told to eat his dinner off of a woman’s ass before.  He liked it.  Good God, he loved it.

Oliver resigned himself to his fate then.  His magnificent, sensual, deliriously beautiful fate.  Because he couldn’t deny his little bird anything.

He took several steps forward, coming to stand by the side of the couch, just a few feet in front of Felicity’s face.  Then he reached to his shirt and undid the buttons as she watched.  Her pupils dilated impossibly large in the candlelight as he proceeded to strip bare before her eyes.  Oliver loved seeing her reaction.  He grew hard as he watched her watching him, and by the time he’d gotten the last of his clothes off, Felicity was staring blatantly at his erection while moistening her lips.  The sight made him ache with devilish desire and he had to force himself to look away, so he could concentrate on fulfilling this fantasy.  For both of them.

When he moved around to the front of the couch, Oliver noticed that she’d put a chair cushion on the floor for him to kneel on.  _Dear Lord, the woman thinks of everything._ He sunk to his knees on the green-and-red plaid fabric, right next to her lower back.  Then he glanced down to her perfect ass, appreciating the curves that he knew would feel as soft as they looked. 

He cleared his throat. “Do you honestly want the real me, Felicity?”

She turned her face toward him, folding her arms up beneath her head and resting her cheek against her hands.  Her blue eyes looked right into his.  “I honestly do.”

Oliver reached for the plate of food she’d left him.  “Well then, I must tell you that I remember, in exact detail, what I said to you the night you tied me up.”

An easy smiled curved her pink lips. “You do?”

“Yes, I do,” he said, taking the plate of steak in his right hand and lifting the dish up off of her body. “What I said was that I wanted to eat my dinner _directly_ off of your backside.”

Oliver reached his free hand to the base of her spine, easing his fingers across the warmth of her skin as Felicity moaned beneath his touch.  He traced his way up the smooth, straight line of her back, until he reached her neck. Then he brushed her hair off to the side, over her far shoulder.  Oliver looked back to her face.  “Are you willing to let me eat directly off of you?”

“Sweet Lord, yes. I’m more than willing.”

He grinned as he reached his left hand to the plate and took one expertly dissected morsel between his fingertips.  With great care, he placed the meat directly on the small of her back, in the little spot at the base of her spine.  Felicity’s eyes closed on a sigh and his cock throbbed.

“Mmm…don’t worry, Oliver; I’ve showered today.”

“I honestly couldn’t care in the least,” he admitted as he took another portion of filet and laid it directly between her shoulder blades. He continued his placement, one morsel after the other, across every section of her skin from her shoulders to her heart-shaped bottom.  When finished, he set the plate down on the table behind him and then turned back to feast his eyes on his creation.  “You know, I think I may have missed my calling in life.”

“Yeah? What should you have been?”

“An artist. Although I would probably only ever be inspired when you’re my canvas.”

Felicity laughed, her body quaking with the movement, causing the pieces of meat to dance against her.  Oliver bent down and sucked one morsel into his mouth, allowing his teeth and lips to linger on her skin, dragging his tongue over her flesh as he slowly pulled away. He chewed leisurely, and then swallowed before looking back to her face.  “Damn. I have never tasted better steak in my life.”

“Well, Phil does make a mean filet.”

“Phil doesn’t have shit to do with it.  It’s the fact that I get to lick it off of your skin.”

Felicity blushed with his words, and Oliver had never been more enchanted by the pink flush of her skin, especially since he could see now that it wasn’t just on her face. She actually blushed across her entire body, from her shoulders all the way to her toes.  His eyes followed the spread of the color as it moved down, and then he sucked in a deep breath when his gaze landed on the mounds of her ass. Oliver reached to them, laying his right hand against the smooth seam that separated the two rounded cheeks. “Fuck, I love your ass,” he whispered.

She giggled. “You may have mentioned that before.”

He eased his fingers across the delicate seam, all the way down to the juncture of her thighs. Felicity parted her legs for him, shifting her body just slightly against the cushions.  Oliver’s eyes darted to her back, where one piece of meat tipped over with her movement.  He dove down to catch it, his lips closing around her skin at the same time his fingers found the blissfully wet opening to her sex.  Oliver bit his teeth into the steak while simultaneously pressing one finger inside the heat of her body.

Felicity moaned deep in her throat.  Oliver felt the rumble of the sensual sound against his lips and his erection jerked so violently that he nearly came on the side of the couch.  He drew his finger out of her body, just so he could add a second finger inside her. Her legs spread a bit further to accommodate him, and Oliver smiled as he swallowed the second piece of steak.

When he leaned down for another bite, this one between her shoulder blades, Felicity sucked in a deep breath and shivered beneath his mouth.  “Is this bothering you?” he murmured against her skin as he slid his fingers slowly out, and then back inside, of her.

“Mmm. Oh, yes, it’s bothering me. In the best possible way.”

Oliver pulled his hand completely out of her then, but only so he could trace up the seam of her ass. Her wetness coated his fingers, leaving a glistening trail behind as he relished the feel of her soft skin. “You want me to keep going, then?”

“I do. _Please_.”

A grin curved his lips as he bent down to suck another piece of meat from her flesh. He slid his fingers back down her bottom and into her soft, wet sex.  She felt even wetter now than she had a moment ago, and he pulled back out again to follow the trail he’d started up the curved ridge of her ass, all the way to the base of her spine.  While he chewed on his food, his eyes focused on the path of his fingers as they traveled back down again, into her tight, hot sheath. 

“This is the best fucking dinner I’ve ever had,” he admitted after a hard swallow. 

She exhaled and smiled. “It is?”

“Yes, it is. Just narrowly beats out the dinner I had when you tied me up.  I think I only like this one better because I get to touch you any way I want to. Although, I did enjoy you being on top of me that night.”

“I can be on top again.”

Oliver dragged his fingers back out of her heat and up her soft seam again, leaving a trail of perfect wetness as he went.  “No, I don’t want you to be on top tonight.  After I finish eating my dinner, I want to fuck you from behind, right here, just like this. That okay with you?”

He slid his fingers back down her ass and into her sex.

Felicity groaned. “Mm-hmm…that’s just…yes…so good.”

Oliver leaned down to eat another piece of meat from her skin.  He repeated the path of his fingers, over and over again, dragging her wetness out of her body and all the way up to the little curve at the base of her spine. He watched the journey his hand took as he chewed one morsel after another.  His fingers transitioned smoothly now, from her hot sheath all the way to her back, because he’d seamlessly lubricated the path.

His cock pulsed and ached, wanting inside of her in the worst possible way, and he cursed the fact that she’d cut up so much steak for him.  But, on the other hand, he loved that she’d given him so much, because it forced him to enjoy every moment of this sweet torture.  When he finally sucked the last bite of meat into his mouth, he watched Felicity nibble against her lower lip.  Oliver chewed and swallowed, and then brought his free hand to the side of her face, tracing down her cheek and into her hair. She sighed in pleasure and contentment and Oliver’s chest squeezed.  “God, Felicity, I really need to be inside you.”

She gave him a soft smile. “I need you inside me.”

He pressed his lips together, clenching his jaw as every muscle in his body tightened in response to her words.  Pulling his hands reluctantly from her body, Oliver stood at the side of the couch, looking down to his little fairy.  The skin across her back was slightly pink from where he’d been eating off of her, but he’d left no marks.  There were still spots he’d licked that glistened from the moisture of his tongue, but it was nothing compared to how the candlelight caught on the wet seam of her ass.

“Spread your legs for me,” he instructed as he leaned down to brace his arms beside her shoulders. Felicity complied with a moan, easing her thighs further apart.  Oliver climbed onto the couch, hearing the wood groan beneath his weight as pressed his knees between hers.  He situated himself into position behind her, and as he did his rock-hard erection landed against the seam of her ass.  His body responded involuntarily to the sensation, his cock throbbing and his hips pulsing forward.  Oliver stared at the sight of his heavy length resting between her wet ass cheeks and he swallowed hard.

“You doing okay?” Felicity whispered.

“Yup, I’m…I’m good.”

“What are you thinking about?”

Oliver huffed out a laugh. “Honestly?”

“Yes, please.”

Oliver balanced himself with his left arm so he could bring his right hand down to her back. He touched the base of her spine with his still-wet fingers.  “I’m thinking about this little hollow at the bottom of your back,” he admitted, reverently tracing across the flawless dimple.

“What are you thinking about it?”

His hips arched again, running his cock against the deliciously damp seam.  “I’m thinking that the skin over your ass is really wet now, which I admit is totally my fault.  But, since it is so wet, I’m thinking I could fuck the wonderfully smooth ridge between your ass cheeks, just like this, and then come right into this perfect dimple in your back.”

Felicity made a tiny choking sound in her throat.  “And you…you would enjoy that?”

“Fuck, yes,” he whispered, outlining the indentation over and over with his fingertips.

“Then I want that, too.”

Oliver’s eyes shot up to the side of her face.  She was nibbling her lip, and he hated that he couldn’t see her full expression from this angle. “Felicity, no…I’m not actually going to do that tonight.  You just asked what I was thinking, and I was being brutally honest.”

“And I love your honesty, Oliver.  I’m willing to try it. It sounds interesting.”

His gaze fell back down over the curve of her spine to where his fingers rested.  The head of his cock pulsed against her, and he could picture himself coming right there, just spurting out on her skin. He knew he would enjoy that, but he wasn’t sure she would, so it simply wasn’t an option tonight. Because he was damn well going to make sure she enjoyed herself as much as he would.  “I love that you want to try it, baby.  But right now, I need to be inside you.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Hmm…well then, that sounds good, too.”

“It sounds better than good; it sounds incredible,” he breathed as he leaned back, distancing himself just enough to take his thick erection in hand and line up the tip with the soaking entrance to her sex.  She bit into her lip again and Oliver groaned as he watched.  Then he lowered himself onto both arms, easing his chest onto her back, so he could kiss the curve of her ear.  Felicity giggled with the sensation, and Oliver pushed his way inside her as she smiled.

She arched her back as he entered her, pressing her bottom up higher into his lower abs, and he relished the softness and wetness of her skin as he sunk all the way in. Felicity moaned while her body sheathed his cock completely, and she drew her arms out from under her head to grip the side of the couch with her hands.  Oliver watched her fingers clench the wood before resting his forehead against her hair. “You doing okay?” he whispered into her loose gold curls.

“Mmm, yes…you just…you feel so _good_.”

He shifted his hips in order to ease out of her and then back in again.  “So do you.”

“Do I really?”

“God, yes.”

She turned her face to the side as her arms stretched above her head.  “Tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

“Tell me how it feels to be inside me.”

Oliver watched her lick her lips and he groaned.  He slid out and then sunk in again, focusing on the sensation as he searched for words. “It’s hard to describe. You feel incredibly soft and so, so wet. I love how wet you are; I love knowing that your body anticipates me and aches for me just like my body aches for you.” He pulled out again and then plunged back in, listening as she whimpered beneath him.  “And you’re so tight around me, and so warm, and I feel like I can’t get enough of you, no matter how hard I try.”

She smiled as he spoke, and Oliver leaned down to press his nose to her ear, nuzzling against her earlobe. “Your turn,” he whispered into her hair, taking a deep breath in and filling his lungs with the sweet scent of tiny flowers.

“You want to know what you feel like to me?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Oh, Oliver, you feel _amazing_ ,” she began, digging her fingers into the wood hand rest as he pressed himself to the hilt inside her. “You feel so big and so hard and so thick, especially from behind like this.”

His hips jerked with her words. “You like this position?”

“God, yes, I love it. I love feeling your chest against my back, and your breath on my cheek.  I just wish…”

“What do you wish?”

“I wish you would hold onto my hands.”

Oliver lifted his arms immediately, covering her hands with his and entwining their fingers so they could grip the log hand rest together.  The full weight of his chest now rested against her back, settling them deeper into the couch cushions, and he worried that it was too much pressure on her. “How is this, baby? Are you good like this?”

“Oh, this…this is perfect,” she sighed.  “Will you move harder inside me now?”

“You want me to fuck you harder?”

“Yes.”

“Mmm…if you insist,” he breathed into her neck as he began driving deep into her body, over and over again. He tried to keep the pace slow, so he could last longer, but he was terribly aware of the still-wet seam of her ass pressing into his abs as he moved, and it made him tremble with a fierce, pounding need.  “You like this, Felicity?”

“I do. _So_ _much_.”

“Do you think you can come like this?”

“I…I don’t know.”

“I could use my hands to touch you, to make you come.”

“No, I like your hands where they are, holding mine.  You feel so incredible, Oliver.  You feel even thicker from behind than you normally do, and you always fill me up so completely.  I love having you inside me, and on top of me, and all around me.  You just fit me so perfectly, and it’s like you’re everywhere all at once. I love it so much. I love it when you fuck me.”

Her words sent a pulse of electricity down his spine and Oliver slammed his eyes shut and clenched his teeth.  He gripped hard to her fingers, fighting the sensations as best he could.  But then she arched her ass up even higher, and Oliver lost the fight.  He came with a growl, dropping his forehead into her neck as he panted in time with his next few stuttered, purely instinctive thrusts.  Felicity’s shoulder blade lay beneath his lips and he licked and nipped at her skin while he emptied himself inside the warm sheath of her sex. She moaned and whimpered with the pulsations of his hips and his cock, her fingers still entwined with his as she clamped down on the hand rest and trembled underneath him.

When Oliver’s body finally stopped thrumming, it took him a long minute to reopen his eyes, and refocus, and return to reality.  Once he did, he shook his head.  “Damn it, I’m sorry.”

“Why on earth are you sorry?”

“I came without you. Utterly and completely without you.”

“It wasn’t utterly without me; I was right here the whole time.  And I actually really enjoyed it.”

Oliver raised his head to see the side of her face.  “I’m glad you enjoyed it, but I’m still disappointed in myself that you didn’t finish.”

Felicity sighed against the couch cushion.  “Well, I promise I’m just fine.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean that I had a nice time; I don’t need to have an orgasm to feel satisfied.”

Oliver lifted up on his arms, trying to get a better look at her eyes.  “Are you fucking kidding me right now?  Please tell me you’re joking.”

“No, I’m really not.”

“Dear Lord, Felicity, did the men you dated before me convince you of that shit?”

A smile pulled at her pink lips. “It’s…it’s okay, Oliver.”

“No, it’s not okay. You’re such a giving person, and I love that about you, but it doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t get something in return for what you give.” 

“But I don’t need a reward.”

He shook his head, unable to believe his ears.  “Well, you’re getting a reward, whether you need it or not.”  Oliver pulled out of her body, instantly hating the loss of her warmth, as he lifted his legs up over hers.  Planting his feet beside the couch, he stood and looked down to his little fairy. “I fully intend to give you an orgasm, Felicity.  I am going to make you come right now, and it will be better for you if you accept that fact. But I will need to join you on the couch, so I would like for you to turn on your side, please.”

“Oliver, really, it’s not…”

“Turn. On.  Your.  Side. Please.”  

She pressed her lips together, but still didn’t move.

Oliver stood there, staring expectantly at her.  “Just so you know, I am at least as stubborn as you are, if not more.  And I will wait right here, buck-ass naked, for the next six days, if I have to.”

That statement etched a smile on her lips, and pulled a giggle from her throat, and Oliver grinned back at her.  But then her smile fell, and she closed her eyes for a moment.  Finally, Felicity exhaled and tilted over onto her hip, resting her spine against the back of the couch as she looked up to his face. 

Oliver wanted to be happy that she’d done as he’d asked, and that she’d given in to the fact that he was going to please her, come hell or high water.  He wanted to be ecstatic about it, but the moment she turned over, he saw them.  Oliver saw the bite marks he’d left on her skin the day before.  And all the air sucked out of the room.

His eyes focused in on her chest.  The bruises were purple and mottled and he could see shadows of his teeth marks against the cream color of her skin.  Oliver’s entire body revolted against the sight, pushing acid into his throat. “God, Felicity…”

“They don’t hurt,” she whispered. “And I will heal just fine.”

Oliver felt his knees go weak, and he sunk down beside her on the couch, lying on his side so he could be face to face with his little bird.  For a long time, he could only see the bruises.  Then he pulled his eyes up to hers.  Oliver reached out, taking her face in one hand, as he focused in on her sky blue.  “Please tell me you weren’t laying on your stomach because you were trying to hide this from me.”

Felicity shook her head. “No, I wasn’t trying to hide it, I promise.  I knew you’d see it eventually, but I also knew you’d feel guilty and I honestly just didn’t want that tonight.  I really needed to be able to spend the evening with you without you treating me like something breakable.  Because I’m not that easily broken.  I swear I’m not.”

She reached her hand to his chest, resting her palm over his heart.  “You’re a wonderful man, you know.  You give me so, so much; I really can’t even tell you how much. And I just couldn’t bear to see this distressed look on your face, because tonight I wanted to be with the _real_ Oliver – the one that lives without guilt or regret.”

He shut his eyelids against the pain of her words.  “I don’t…I don’t even know if that Oliver exists anymore, Felicity.”

Her fingers moved across his heart. “He does.  I can see him in there.  You just have to let him live.  You just have to let him breathe.”

Oliver reopened his eyes to see hers.  He looked into her beautiful blue, and watched a gentle smile grace her lips, and he didn’t understand how she could be with him like this, so open and so loving, after witnessing him at his worst.  His gaze fell to her chest, to the bruises littered across her skin, and he winced.

He bent his head down, slowly and tentatively, easing his mouth onto her chest.  He pressed his lips to the first purple mark he came to, taking care to be tender so he didn’t hurt her again.  When his mouth met her skin, Felicity dropped her face into his hair and moaned. Reaching one hand to her hip, Oliver pulled her body closer to his as he moved on to the next bruise, and then the next.  He took his time, kissing each and every one in turn, while she hummed her approval against his scalp.

Oliver ran his hand over her hipbone, his fingers drifting steadily across her skin, as he attempted to kiss away the wounds he’d inflicted.  Felicity shifted beneath the touch of his lips and his hands, pressing her knees together with a breathy moan.  Oliver’s touches became firmer, and farther-reaching, while he tried to mend what he’d nearly broken.  He stroked all the way up her ribcage, and then down again, across her waist and over her thigh. He felt the goose bumps spread across her skin as he kissed from one breast to the other.

Felicity whimpered when his lips brushed across the peak of her nipple, so he pressed his mouth to her skin to worship the tiny bud with his tongue.  She muttered unintelligible words while smoothing her fingers into his hair, and Oliver ran his hand back across her thigh and onto her softly rounded belly.  Then he moved further down, easing his fingers between her rigid legs.

She arched against his hand even as she shook her head.  “Oliver, you don’t have to…”  

He let her nipple loose in order to look up to her face.  Her sky blue eyes darkened, her cheeks flushed pink, and her lips trembled. “Let me give you this, Felicity.”

“But you give me so much already.”

“Then let me give you more. Please.”

She whimpered with his request, but then smiled and nodded.  He felt her stiff legs relax, easing apart so he could run his fingers down into the soft folds of her sex.  Felicity moaned the moment Oliver touched her there, her mouth parting as her eyelids fluttered shut.  Oliver stared at her. She was beautiful – so goddamn beautiful – and he had to kiss her; he had to taste her.

When he pressed his lips against hers, she immediately wrapped her arms around his neck and sunk into his kiss.  Oliver tangled his tongue with hers as his hand dipped even further down.  He discovered the opening of her body so easily, and pressed two fingers inside of her hot sheath, and then groaned into her mouth from the wetness he found.  Felicity was so fucking wet, and he knew it wasn’t just from her; it was also from him, because he’d already come inside her.  He liked feeling his thicker liquid pooled deep within her soft walls. He liked knowing that part of his body was still inside hers.  And he realized that was goddamn caveman-like possessive thought, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

As he dragged his fingers back out of her heat and up onto her tight little bundle of nerves, Felicity shuddered against him.  Oliver’s mouth left hers, but only to move across her cheek and onto her neck. His fingers circled slowly around her fleshy, tender nub and then eased back down through her folds and into her soft wetness once again.  “God, you feel good,” he rasped against her collarbone as he ran his tongue into the hollow beside her throat.

“I do?” she breathed.

“Yes, you do. So good.  And your skin…it tastes perfect.  Salty and sweet and so fucking amazing.”

She moaned with his declarations, and Oliver grinned as he moved his mouth down to her chest again. He found one nipple with his lips, running his tongue across the tight, eager peak as he guided his hand in and out of her sex, again and again.  Felicity arched sharply against him, pulling at his hair as she whimpered and gasped and shifted her hips up and down, trying her damnedest to fuck his fingers. Oliver loved feeling her need. And he loved knowing that he could make her feel it. 

He pushed his fingers deep inside her then, adding his thumb to caress her tight little nerve bud as he sucked her nipple deep onto his tongue.  “Oh, _damn_ , baby,” she gasped.

Oliver smiled against her skin when he heard her breathy curse.  “Come for me, Felicity,” he instructed, his breath hot against her tight, wet nipple as he worked her sensitive flesh harder and faster with his fingers. “I want you to come. I need you to.”

“Um-hmm. I’m going to…I’m going…to…oh…oh… _Oliver!_ ”

Her arms tightened fiercely around his neck as her legs clamped down on his hand, and Oliver latched his mouth onto her nipple and pulled hard against it.  Felicity screamed out with the sensation, her entire body trembling and shuddering as he continued to move his thumb and fingers and tongue with the rhythm of her undulating hips.  He wanted to spend eternity enjoying the feel of her inner muscles pulsing around him as she moaned his name, but then he heard a loud thud and a gruffly muttered, “ _Ouch_ ,” and he lifted his eyes to her face.

Oliver watched as Felicity raised one hand to the top of her head and rubbed her hair. “I’m so sorry,” she whimpered. “I didn’t mean to ruin the moment…I just hit my head on the arm of the couch.”

“You didn’t ruin anything; I’m more worried about your head.  Is it okay?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. I should know better than to thrash about with all of the log furniture around here, but I completely forgot where I was there for a minute.”

Oliver chuckled. “I am going to take that as a compliment.”

“Oh, yes, do. Please do.”

He eased his fingers out of her, dragging them up her body and onto her back.  He used the new leverage to pull her closer, and then he leaned down to press his lips to hers.  “Did you have a nice orgasm?”

“God, yes. It was awesome.”

“Good.”

Felicity smiled against his lips.  “How about you? Did you enjoy yourself tonight? I mean, did you enjoy dinner and then…what came afterward?”

“I don’t think ‘enjoyed’ is a strong enough word.”

“That’s wonderful,” she sighed, grinning giddily up at him with enchanted eyes.  “I’m so glad I was able to guess.”

Oliver’s brow furrowed. “What did you guess?”

“Your fantasy. You know…the one I promised you when we were walking into the woods yesterday?  Since you’d fulfilled a fantasy of mine by letting me tie you up, it was my turn to fulfill a fantasy of yours, and I figured this would be the one you’d want.”

“Oh yes, I do remember that promise quite well.  And I have to admit, this certainly was amazing.”

“Hooray,” Felicity hummed, beaming up at him before pressing her lips to his for a long minute.  When she settled back against the couch again, she smiled ear to ear.  “I’m so glad I could make you happy, Oliver.” 

“You do make me happy.  So goddamn happy,” he confessed, wrapping his arms tighter around her back and pulling her harder to his chest.  “But I would still like to discuss this fantasy you owe me.”

Felicity’s lips parted and her eyes widened.  “What are you talking about?”

Oliver grinned wildly.  “I’m talking about the fantasy you promised me.”

“You mean the one that I just gave you?”

“No. I mean the one that you _owe_ me.”

“But I thought I just gave you your fantasy.”

“You gave me _a_ fantasy,” he corrected as he bent down to kiss the tip of her nose.  “But you didn’t give me _the_ fantasy – the one I am still owed, and _I_ get to choose, per your words.”

“I…um…”

“I do still get my fantasy, don’t I, Felicity?”

The confused look on her face was priceless, and Oliver fought back a laugh. She considered his words for several minutes before finally settling into his embrace and smiling up to his eyes. “Of course you get your fantasy. That is what I promised you.”

“Yes it is,” he confirmed with a nod and another kiss to her nose.

She giggled, which shifted the soft contours of her body against the hardness of his, and Oliver sighed in contentment.  He loved lying here with her, naked and entangled on these couch cushions, but he would give anything to take her into her bedroom now, and curl up with her on top of her mattress and under her sheets.  He stared into her eyes, enjoying the happiness inside them, as Felicity reached out to him, running her hands from his shoulder to his wrists.

“Hmm…do you like my arms, Felicity?”

“Oh, Dear Lord, yes. I love your arms.”

“Well, you know, if you like them so much, you’d probably like waking up in them.”

Felicity stilled for a moment, and then burst into laughter.  “Wow, Oliver,” she managed to squeak out between giggles, “that may be the corniest line I’ve ever heard.”

He chuckled. “It may be the corniest line I’ve ever said.  But the fact remains that you and I have never slept in bed together, and I’d really like to wake up with you in my arms.”

Her laughter died down as she continued to pet him.  “We shouldn’t tonight.  You saw Dr. Lance for the first time today and that is a huge step.  You need some space to process it all.”

Oliver’s brain knew those words made perfect sense, but his body rebelled fiercely against the thought of letting her go.  “Okay, Felicity. I guess I can accept that. But only if I can have another promise from you.” 

“What promise is that?”

Oliver pinned her eyes with his.  “I want you to promise me that, at some point during the next six days, you’ll let me stay over, and you’ll spend the entire night in my arms.”

She nibbled her lip as she met his determined gaze.  “Okay, Oliver. I promise.  But I reserve the right to choose which night it will be.”

“Fair enough,” he agreed, easing his hand across her lower back and onto her hip. “I don’t suppose you’d change your mind and let it be tonight?”

Felicity shook her head. “No, not tonight.”

“Well, you can’t blame a guy for trying.  But, just so you know, I am still going to lay here and hold you for a good, long while.”

“Hmm,” she considered with a grin.  “Honestly, I’d be pissed off if you didn’t.”

Oliver chuckled. “Do you get pissed off? Because I’m having trouble imagining that.”

“Yes, I absolutely do get pissed off.  I have a loud voice and everything.”

“Oh, your loud voice. I did experience that tonight, didn’t I? I mean, you actually demanded that I eat my dinner off your ass.”

She giggled with his words, and the sound wound its way around his heart.  “That wasn’t even close to my real loud voice, Oliver. Also, when I’m _really_ angry, I have been known to stomp my foot from time to time.”

His brow rose. “You stomp your foot? Yikes.  Remind me to stay on your good side.”

Felicity laughed even harder, and Oliver joined her.  He dropped his chin to his chest as the laughter lightened his soul.  But then his eyes drew to the bruises still marring her skin, and he sucked in a breath and quieted.

The moment his body stilled, Felicity reached her hands to his cheeks, pulling his face back up to catch his eyes with her own.   She waited patiently until he could focus on her.  And then she whispered, “Everything heals with time.”

Oliver listened to her, and he heard her, and he nodded.  He felt her fingers run up his jaw and into his hair, and he watched as she gazed up at him with pure adoration.  Oliver banded his arms tighter around her back.  “Tell me something I can do for you, Felicity.  Please tell me something I can give you.”

“I told you…you give me so much already,” she assured as her fingers curled against his scalp. “However, since you asked, I could use more kisses.  If it’s not too much trouble.”

Felicity smiled with her request, and some of the weight on Oliver’s chest lifted. He leaned down to press his mouth to hers.  “I’ll give you anything you want, baby,” he whispered against her lips. 

_Even if that means letting you go._

_..._

**A/N:** Hi there!  I hope you enjoyed this chapter...please let me know what you think, because I just love that!  I hope you will have a beautiful, peaceful and thankful week  :)Tina

Up next...Chapter 10:  Positive Reinforcement


	10. Positive Reinforcement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Sweethearts! Thanks so much for coming back to read with me! A couple people asked how long this fic will be, and I now believe the answer is 18 chapters. Yeah, this is gonna be one long-ass mother of a story ;) But hopefully, knowing that eight chapters remain will help with the slight time jump about to take place :)

Two days. Oliver only had two more days left with her.  Felicity would walk away from him the day after tomorrow, and he didn’t know how he could possibly cope with that.

Oliver’s jaw clenched as he sat on the porch steps of his cabin, waiting for his little bird to flutter back into his life.  It was already mid-morning.  He’d already showered and dressed.  Roy had already come and gone with breakfast.  But Felicity still wasn’t here yet. 

The lack of her presence made Oliver’s hands tremble, and he alternately stretched and squeezed his fingers as he sat on the cool wood stair, looking toward the clump of trees that separated her cabin from his.  He hated not seeing her.  He hated not knowing the exact moment she would come walking toward him.  Because they only had two days left together, and he wanted to spend every minute he could with her.

Oliver wasn’t quite sure how the time with his forest fairy had flown away so quickly. From the moment she’d told him she only had six days left here, everything moved so fast.  His life at Blue adopted a strangely comfortable pattern: morning basketball with Tommy, afternoon therapy sessions with Dr. Lance, and then evening frolicking with Felicity.

The morning basketball wasn’t easy to go back to at first, after finding out that Tommy had been in Felicity’s cabin.  But Oliver trusted her when she said Tommy only wanted to talk, and he understood that Tommy needed Felicity’s support, just like Roy did.  So Oliver continued that brotherly friendship…but he never brought up Felicity’s name. Because even though Tommy could probably tell him so many things about her, Oliver didn’t want another man feeding him information about his freebird; he wanted to discover everything for himself. So, even though it was almost the end of her vacation now, and there were a billion things he’d never learned about Felicity Megan Smoak, he still didn’t mention her name to Tommy.

The afternoons were a bit easier. Oliver made the decision to embrace his time with Dr. Lance, and he’d been as open and honest as he could with the doctor.  Not that it wasn’t hard. It was hard as hell, and emotionally exhausting, but Oliver knew, without question, that he was on the right road now.  He could only thank the heavens that Felicity had shown him the entrance.

Roy continued bringing Oliver’s dinner to Felicity’s cabin every day.  Because that’s where Oliver went, directly from Lance’s office, to spend his evenings.  Roy never questioned it; he acted as if it was completely natural for Oliver to be with Felicity, and Oliver appreciated the unspoken approval more than he could say. Because it did feel natural to be with her – it felt like the most natural thing ever – and Oliver didn’t think he could explain that fact, even if he tried.

Of course, Felicity didn’t ask for explanations.  She was just there, beside him, gripping his hand tightly and smiling at him with her whole body and gazing into his eyes like she’d discovered a new universe inside him. Every time she looked at him like that, Oliver wanted her more.  Which was difficult to comprehend, because he already wanted her constantly. Even despite that fact that he had her every day.

The night after he’d eaten his steak dinner off her backside, they’d spent the evening playing _Twister_ again. Only this time, it was a new version of the game that Felicity named _Kissing Twister_ , which meant they had to kiss whatever part of each other’s body they were closest to at the end of their turn.  They tried to make the game last as long as they could. They ended up ripping each other’s clothes off – literally, in the case of her underwear – and having laughing, smiling, sweaty sex on top of the plastic mat on the living room floor.

The next night, after they shared a mostly platonic dinner on the couch, Oliver followed her into the kitchen to help clean up.  But then Felicity dropped a fork on the floor.  When she bent over to pick it up, he basically lost his mind.  Because that position made her ass look… _holy_ _damn_ _wow_.  So he grabbed her and fucked her up against the refrigerator door. At first she was surprised, and then she giggled, and then she moaned, and then she screamed out in pleasure, and Oliver couldn’t bring himself to regret a minute of it.

Last night, however, Oliver tried to make things more romantic for them…because he was still bound and determined to make love to her in a bedroom.  But then, after a charming dinner by candlelight, Felicity armed herself with the hose from the kitchen sink and started a water fight with him. By the time Oliver finished retaliating, she ended up with her bare ass perched on the wet countertop and yet another pair of torn panties on the floor.  Of course, she didn’t complain.  But she did laugh a lot, and Oliver made sure she also screamed more.

He didn’t want to leave her cabin after the water fight last night, but Felicity didn’t give him a choice. She sent him out of her door with one last long kiss, and Oliver left with a warm smile on his face despite the cold air seeping through his still-wet clothes.  Of course, he’d made sure to secure plans for today before he left her cabin.  He told her he wouldn’t leave her porch unless she promised to spend this _entire_ day with him.

Felicity hemmed about it at first.  She said he needed to have his time with Lance; Oliver answered her with a promise to see the doctor tomorrow. Then she explained that she really wanted to spend today in the woods; Oliver answered by offering to go with her. He remained persistent despite all of her protests, and eventually Felicity agreed to his terms. Oliver exhaled in relief the moment she did, and then hurried home and fell swiftly into an exhausted sleep. He did that every night now, probably because of the emotional toll his therapy took on him.  But, even though he slept like a baby, he still woke each morning with the clawing desire to see her – a desire that only worsened as the day went on.

So here he sat, on the cold wood of his porch steps, eager to spend the day with her. And wondering why she wasn’t here yet. And wondering why she hadn’t yet fulfilled her promise to sleep through the night in his arms. And wondering why she never, ever spoke of a future between them, no matter how intimate they were, emotionally and physically.

A rustling sound came from the trees beside his cabin then, followed quickly by a loudly shouted, “Oliver!” He turned his head to see his Felicity running at him with a wide smile on her lips and loose gold curls flying around her face.  He had just enough time to stand and step out onto the gravel before she launched herself into his arms.

Felicity knocked the wind out of him when he caught her against his chest, and Oliver stumbled back a step or two.  “Oh my God…I’m so happy to see you,” she breathed beside his ear, her arms tightening around his neck.

“I’m happy to see you, too,” he reassured as he pulled her closer, supporting her weight as she pushed up on the tiptoes of her hiking boots.  Her body shivered against his, and she clung so tightly to him, that Oliver wondered if something bad had happened.  “Felicity, are you…”

She stopped his question by pressing her lips to his, planting fast and furious kisses against his mouth and his cheeks and his nose as she grinned and giggled. Then she eased back, just a little, to look up at him.  Her arms uncurled from his neck, but her fingers remained close to his shirt collar.

Oliver studied his little bird.  Her eyes were wide and luminous.  Her fingers fiddled and fumbled with his collar.  Her entire body hummed against his.  She felt like a ball of nervous energy inside his arms, and it reminded him of the night she’d showed him the picture of her yellow-crowned purple fantini and asked him to straighten the frame she’d hung on the wall.  Felicity had thrummed with energy that night, just as she did now, and Oliver wasn’t sure what to make of it.  “Are you doing okay today?”

She nibbled against her lip. “Yeah, yeah…I’m okay.”

Oliver shook his head, and then took her face in both his hands, grounding her to him. “I can tell that you’re not. Talk to me.  Please.”

Felicity exhaled as she brought her fingers up to rest over his heart.  “It’s just…this is it, you know?  This is my last day in the woods.”

A surge of panic shot through Oliver’s body.  “No. _No_. This isn’t your last day. We still have one more day. You’ll still be here tomorrow.”

“Yes, I’ll still be here tomorrow, but I won’t be able to go into the woods again.  I just have too much to do.  I have to get ready to return to the real world; there’s so much to get ready for. I have to pack, of course. And then there’s dinner. I would love to have dinner with you one more time.  You will come for dinner, right? I want you to. I’ll try to make it special. I can talk to Phil to see if he’ll make another steak for you.  I mean…if that’s okay.  Is that okay? Or is that too much steak? I don’t know if it’s too much of a good thing.  Although that sounds ridiculous, right?  Too much of a good thing? I’ve always found that to be an odd expression, but I suppose it could be, and…”

“ _Felicity_.  Take a breath. Please.”

She stopped talking and stared up into his eyes as air came in little bursts from her lips. She blinked her eyes a few times and then nodded and tried to smile.  “Sorry.”

Oliver placed his hands on her shoulders.  “Don’t be sorry. I just want to make sure you’re doing alright. Besides, you know I’ll be there for dinner tomorrow.  And it doesn’t matter what we eat, as long as I’m with you.  But…”

“But what?”

“Do you really want me to come with you today?”

Her fingers immediately fisted into his shirt.  “What do you mean?”

“I mean if this is the last chance for you to be in the woods, I don’t want to interfere,” he offered despite the churning in his gut.  “If you need to be alone, I understand.”  Oliver held his breath as he waited for her to answer.

Felicity reached up to touch his cheek.  “Thank you, baby. But I don’t want to be alone today. I’ve been alone in the woods everyday. All morning, while you’re playing basketball with Tommy, and then all afternoon, while you have your talks with Dr. Lance.  And I absolutely need that time to myself, but I get so excited when I know I’m going to see you in the evenings and I just…I want to spend my last day in the forest with you by my side. If that’s okay.”

Oliver nodded, probably a little too violently.  “Yes. That is definitely okay.”

She grinned and reached for his hand, grasping onto his fingers as she stepped backwards into the tree line.  “Then come on, let’s go.”

They walked into the woods together.  Well, _he_ walked.  She bounced. Through the brambles and underbrush and snapped twigs and branches, she bounced and hummed and giggled, and Oliver watched her with both amazement and apprehension. Because he didn’t know how she maintained this level of energy day after day, and even though he wasn’t sure how stable his little bird felt today, he couldn’t bear the thought of losing these moments from his life.

They found her favorite red maple tree again.  She stood in front of it for several minutes, touching the leaves with uncensored awe as she smiled more brilliantly than the sun shining down on her.  And then she turned to him, and grabbed his hands, and sang, “Dance with me?”

His brow rose with the request.  “You mean here?”

Felicity pulled against him while balancing on her tiptoes.  “Yes, right here.”

“I’m sorry, but no. I…I don’t dance.”

“Yes you do, Oliver. I just haven’t seen it on the outside yet.”

Oliver’s heart squeezed inside his chest, and he worked to catch a breath.  Then he tugged her toward him, and wrapped her up in his arms. “I don’t dance, but I do kiss,” he offered, pressing his lips to hers before moving them across her cheek and then down to her neck.  Felicity whimpered as he tasted her skin, her fingers curling over his biceps while she held onto him. He found that little spot behind her ear again – the one that made her giggle and squirm just last night – and he kissed her there.  She did exactly what he knew she would, laughing and wriggling inside his arms.

Oliver banded her tighter to his chest, but his little fairy was harder to keep hold of than he’d imagined. As he continued to nibble against that tender spot, Felicity twisted herself right out of his arms and jumped several feet away.  “You have to stop that!” she chastised with a big, silly grin on her face.  “I’m ticklish there!”

“I know; that’s why I do it. Now come back and let me do it again.”

“Uh-uh,” she refused, stepping backwards.  “You’ll have to catch me first.”

He smiled so wide that it was nearly painful.  “I can do that, you know.”

Oliver wiggled his eyebrows and Felicity laughed – sparkling and bright with just a hint of hysteria – and then she squealed as she turned and began fluttering through the trees. Oliver chuckled to himself while he watched her retreating form.  He even gave her a head start, because he knew her cute little legs would be no match for his long ones.  He watched her hair brush across her back as she darted quickly but carefully through the trees, and he listened to the music of her giggles floating in the air. Once he started after her, Oliver closed the distance between them with only a few long strides. He was quite preoccupied with the thought of catching her, and wrapping her up in his arms, and kissing her ferociously, so she damn near scared the hell out of him when she skidded to sudden halt and shrieked, “Oh my God!  Look!”

Oliver froze, stopping only a few feet away from her, as he attempted to follow her gaze down to the forest floor.  “What? What am I looking at?”

“This!” she exclaimed, pointing to a little branch sticking up out of the dirt.  “It’s a baby pine tree!” 

His brow rose while he stared at the tiny brown stem with the sporadic thin green needles dangling off of it.  Then Oliver refocused on Felicity as she turned toward him and grinned ear to ear.  She clasped her fingers together in front of her, and bounced on the balls of her feet.  Her eyes shone with unbridled excitement, and Oliver’s breath caught as a vision entered his mind: a vision of Felicity holding a little baby girl in her arms.  A baby girl with curly blond hair and bright blue eyes, who reached out to him with her tiny, chubby fingers. 

Oliver’s blood bounded in his veins, pulsing through his body as his heart swelled with the image. Then he rubbed his fingertips across his eyelids and forced himself to inhale and exhale. _Good Lord, man, what are you thinking?_

When he managed to reopen his eyes, he saw Felicity tilt her head. 

“Are you okay, Oliver?”

“I…yes. I’m okay.”

She smiled at him again. “Well, then, come see! Come see the baby!”

Oliver nodded, attempting to school his features so he wouldn’t have to try to explain where his mind just went. Because he didn’t think he could explain it.  Not right now.

“Are you coming?” she asked, reaching out to him with wriggling fingers.

He stepped up beside her and took her hand inside his own.  Then he watched as she turned her face back to the tiny branch and smiled. Her fingers trembled inside his, and Oliver knew she needed to be closer to the little pine, so he bent over and plopped onto the ground, pulling her down along with him.

Felicity squeaked in surprise when they hit the dirt, and Oliver chuckled as he wrapped one arm around her back, tugging her closer to snuggle up against his side. She looked to his eyes, her gaze both questioning and adoring.  “What are we doing down here?”

Oliver reached out to brush a wayward hair from her cheek.  “We are appreciating the little tree.  Although, I have to say it’s pretty much just a twig at this point.”

She giggled with his words and then rested her head against his shoulder, sighing as she relaxed into the side of his chest.  “Yes, right now he’s just a twig, but one day he’ll be just as big and tall as the others. He’ll have the traits of his parents when he grows up, and yet he’ll be his own tree, with his own trunk and his own branches and his own cracks and crevices.”

Oliver ran his fingers through her hair as he listened to her words.  And then she sank further into him, and her thrumming body calmed, and she sat silently for several minutes.  So Oliver just sat with her, and held her, and listened to her breathe.

Eventually, Felicity turned her face up to his and met his eyes.  “Who are you more like, Oliver?  Your mom or your dad?”

He considered the question for a long moment before shaking his head.  “I don’t know; I have my father’s business skill.  But definitely my mother’s fierce sense of family.”

She smiled with his words and he pulled her tighter against him.  “What about you, Felicity?  Are you more like your mom or your dad?”

The look in her eyes shifted from peaceful to painful the moment he asked.  The response didn’t surprise him, because Oliver knew it was a loaded question.  She would have to choose between her deceased, workaholic father, or her wandering-but-not-lost mother – which basically meant a choice between Solemnly Sedate Felicity and Frolicking Freebird Felicity.  And, as much as Oliver wanted the answer, he wasn’t sure if she knew enough to give it to him.

His little bird stared at him for a long time before answering.  And then she looked back to the baby pine tree and said, “I honestly don’t know. But I’m figuring it out, day by day.”

Oliver nodded, because he knew how truthful the statement was, and then he settled into the dirt beside her, just holding her against him as she stared at the little branch. He could feel the warmth of her body, and the steadiness of her breathing, and he smiled to himself as they spent time in silence.  The flapping of a bird’s wings eventually broke the silence, and Oliver glanced up to one of the tall oaks around them.  “Hey, look…it’s a red-headed woodpecker.” 

Felicity’s gaze followed his up to the branches.  “Oh my gosh, it is,” she breathed, her body instantly humming once again. 

Oliver smiled at her enthusiastic response, dually proud of himself for remembering the bird’s name and for making her happy.  He ran his hand up and down her arm as they watched the woodpecker hop along the tree branches, and he felt her tremble beneath his fingers.  At first, he thought it was a good, excited kind of trembling. But then Felicity made a strangled sound in her throat and whispered, “Oh, _no_.”

Oliver turned his attention back to her immediately, holding onto her as he peered down to her face. Tears welled in the corners of her eyes. “Felicity?  What’s wrong?”

She sniffled as she shook her head.  “I…I lied to you, Oliver.”

“About what?”

“That bird isn’t a red-headed woodpecker.  It’s a red- _bellied_ woodpecker.”

His brow furrowed. “Really?  But it doesn’t have a red belly.”

“I know. I used to think that was so weird when I was a kid, but the actual red-headed woodpecker has a red head and mostly black wings, and this one’s wings are different.  I remember my friend Caitlin and I joking that whoever named this bird ‘red-bellied’ needed new binoculars, because this bird doesn’t have any red on it’s belly.  And I know that’s a silly memory, but I just thought I would never forget it. I thought I would never forget any of those things from my childhood.  But I did. I forgot so many things and I…I lied to you.”

Oliver’s chest tightened as Felicity looked up to him with fearful eyes.  He wrapped his other arm around her, encasing her completely. “You didn’t lie to me. You made a mistake.”

The trembling of her body increased exponentially.  “No, I _lied_ to you. Even though I swore to you that I wouldn’t lie anymore.  I _swore_ it.”

“You couldn’t remember the name of a bird, baby.  It was an honest mistake.”

She shook her head, over and over, as tears spilled down her cheeks.  “No, you don’t understand…I lied to you.  I _lied_ to you and I _pushed_ you.  I pushed you so hard, from the second I met you.  I forced you to look at things that maybe you weren’t ready to see, and I hate knowing that I did it against your will.”

Oliver understood what she was referring to now.  This was about the last time they were here in these woods together, and how she’d forced him to acknowledge the significance of what had happened with Carrie. That day had been so painful for him – and he’d reacted poorly, to say the least – but he knew Felicity had only pushed him for his own good.  She’d forced him to take a cold, hard look at his life, so he could finally start moving in the right direction, and he had nothing but gratitude for her actions now.

He smiled in reassurance. “Felicity, you may have pushed me, but you have to know by now that my will is pretty damn strong. What I’ve done at Blue has been of my own choosing, and you shouldn’t feel bad about anything that’s happened between us on this mountain.”

Another tear spilled from her eye onto his fingers.  “I’m sorry, Oliver.”

“Please don’t be.”

Her head shook beneath his hand. “God, I’m so, so sorry.”

The look of crumpled defeat on her face stabbed into his chest, and Oliver couldn’t stand it. “Come here,” he said, pulling her entire body onto his lap.  Felicity immediately curled into a ball against him and Oliver dropped his forehead into her hair. He took a deep breath in, filling his lungs with her scent as she struggled just to steady her breaths. She trembled and cried and shuddered, and it felt like she was unraveling at her seams and falling apart in his arms. Oliver’s gut clenched, because he didn’t know how to hold her together.  He only knew he had to try.  “Shh…it’s okay. Everything is going to be okay.”

Felicity’s fingers fisted against his chest, her words coming out raw and pained. “I’m so sorry I pushed you. I thought I was doing the right thing and I’m just…I’m so, so sorry.” 

He shook his head, not understanding the strength of her reaction, and not knowing how to help her.  But then, as she continued to whisper the word _sorry_ over and over while she clung to him, Oliver suddenly understood what she needed. Because he’d needed the same thing the last time they were here together.  “I forgive you, Felicity,” he breathed into her gold curls. “You’re forgiven.”

She sobbed then. She gripped his shirt and sobbed, and Oliver held her tighter as she shook.  He had no clue what she needed forgiveness for, but he was just grateful to be able to give it.  Because this was his forest fairy…his little freebird…his Felicity.  This woman had changed his life, his whole world. She’d given everything she could to make him a happier person, and he didn’t know that he’d given her much of anything. But he knew he could give her this much. “You’re forgiven,” he whispered, again and again, as she shivered in his arms.

Oliver didn’t know how long they stayed like that.  All he knew was he needed to hold her until she stopped crying and shaking. So he did.  He offered her his strength, because it felt like the only other thing he had to offer.  And he closed his eyes and thanked the heavens when he felt her sink farther into him, accepting that strength without question.

After her trembling finally stopped, and she’d dried her tears with the back of her hands, and her breathing returned to normal, Oliver still didn’t move. Eventually, Felicity reached to his shirt and smoothed out the fabric beneath her cheek, and a little laugh bubbled up from her throat.  “I completely soaked your shirt,” she said, her voice slowly returning to normal. “I think even worse than I did with the kitchen hose last night.”

“My shirt and I will be fine. As long as you’re okay.”

Felicity raised her head from his chest to look into his face.  Her eyes were dry now, but still red around the edges, and Oliver forced himself to smile for her, even though it killed him to see her look so sad. “I’m okay,” she whispered, offering him a smile in return.  “Sorry about my mini gargantuan freak out.”

“Don’t be sorry. Do you want to talk about it?”

Her brow knit and she shook her head.

“Okay, well…do you want to stay here in the forest?  We could go find your oak tree.”

“No. I appreciate the offer, but I think I want to go to the cabin.”

“Are you sure? It’s probably just early afternoon, so we have plenty of time left.”

“Thank you, but I think it’s time to head back now.”

Oliver nodded as she eased herself off of his lap and stood.  He immediately jumped up beside her, and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her back to his side.  Felicity rested her head against his shoulder as they walked, slow and steady, back toward civilization.  She didn’t say anything, and she barely moved, and Oliver hated that she wasn’t dancing anymore.

“I have an idea,” he said, breaking the silence between them.

Felicity looked up to his eyes.  “What idea?”

“Do you want to play a game?”

“What kind of game?”

“I was thinking maybe hide-and-seek?”

She grinned with the suggestion, and he felt it everywhere.  “I haven’t played hide-and-seek in forever…not since I was a child.”

Oliver stopped walking and turned to her.  “Do you want to hide or should I?”

“Can I hide?”

“Of course. But you do realize that I get to kiss you when I find you, right?”

“Ooh, I realize that _now_.”  She smiled at him then, and bounced up and down, and Oliver’s world made sense again.  “Now close your eyes and count to twenty, please.” 

He did as instructed. And when he reopened his eyes, he found her.  Every time. Over and over again. It never took very long to discover her hiding place, even when she managed to find an oak big enough to shield her entirely.  Because he could always see her hot breaths in the cool air, or hear her muffled giggles, or catch sight of her shirt, or just feel her warmth.  So he would sneak up behind her, and scare her almost every time, at which point she would squeal and laugh and then throw her arms around his neck as he kissed her.

He knew his little fairy felt unnerved today, but playing with her made her peaceful, and happy, and Oliver loved being able to give her that.  So he let her hide again, and then snuck up behind her and grabbed her and planted his lips against her mouth as she laughed.  Once he’d finished kissing her, he looked down to her eyes and smiled. “Gotcha.”

“Ugh. How is it that you’re so good at this game?”

Oliver looked directly into her and said, “I will always be able to find you, Felicity.”

He didn’t mean it as a threat. He really didn’t. It was a simple fact. And maybe even a promise. But, as Oliver watched a flicker of fear pass through her eyes, he knew she didn’t take it that way. So he shook his head and gave her a playful grin and said, “Come on, I’ll race you back to your cabin.”

Felicity frowned. “I can’t race you. You’re like a stealthy ninja jet plane or something.”

He chuckled. “Well then, I will give you a ridiculous head start.”

“But what if you lose sight of me and you get lost?”

“I won’t get lost. I know how to navigate this forest now. You taught me well.”

Felicity considered his words for a moment before smiling brilliantly.  She leaned in to kiss him, and waited until his eyes closed, and then squealed and turned to run in the opposite direction.  Oliver laughed as he watched her bound through the trees, and waited until she was almost out of his sight before following.  By the time she reached the edge of the trees behind her cabin, he’d caught up with her.  So he slowed to a jog, making sure she could round the porch and hop up onto the steps before him.

“Yes! I did it!” she cheered while she jumped around in front of her door, pumping her fists in the air. “I beat you here! And I’m going to celebrate like crazy! Even though I know you totally let me win!”

Oliver laughed as he walked up the steps to join her.  “It was worth it to see you happy,” he admitted as he wrapped his arms around her waist, stopping her dancing momentarily so he could kiss the tip of her nose.

Felicity eased her hands across his chest while she smiled up to his eyes.  “Thank you for letting me win, Oliver.  Thank you for this entire day.”

“You’re welcome.”

She pulled away from him, but only to grab hold of his hand and tug him toward her front door. “Come inside with me,” she encouraged, as if there was even a consideration that he wouldn’t follow her anywhere.

When Felicity turned to step into the living room, Oliver glanced at the loose gold curls hanging down around her shoulders.  Kicking the door shut behind them, he followed her into the kitchen.  “Felicity, you have something in your hair.”

“What? Where?” she asked, turning back to him while she reached her hands up to her head.

“Here, let me,” he insisted, easing his fingers into the back of her curls and pulling out a little green leaf. 

“Oh!” she gasped when he handed it to her.  “It’s another one, just like the first time we went into the forest!  It’s funny; it’s like they just want to cling to me.”

“I know the feeling,” he said, watching her breath catch for a moment before she smiled.

“Well, I suppose I will put this one on the counter, right beside the other one.”

Oliver watched as she set this leaf next to the first.  He stared at the two of them, lying side by side.  The new leaf was mostly green with just a little red inside it. Oliver realized the two leaves were reverse images of each other:  red with green and green with red.  Like yin and yang. He smiled at the sight before turning back to his fairy.

“You know, Felicity, I hate to say this, but the leaf proves it.  You are very dirty.”

Her nose crinkled. “What?  No, I’m not.  We weren’t in the forest that long, and I took a shower just this morning.”

“Oh, but you are dirty. You’re…”

“Oliver! I am not dirty! Just smell my hair! I shampooed it this…”

“ _Felicity_ ,” he growled, grabbing her hips and pulling her up against him.  “You are dirty, and you need to take a bath in that big, bear-claw bathtub you have, and you need someone to wash you.  Thoroughly.”

“Oh,” she said. “ _Oh_.” Her eyes widened and she licked her lips.  “Well, then, you are totally right.  I’m so dirty. I am actually _filthy_.  It’s disgusting, really.  I don’t even know how you can stand to be in the same room with me, and…”

Oliver chuckled as she expounded on her level of grime, and Felicity’s cheeks reddened when she finally pressed her lips shut and dropped her forehead onto his chest.

“Sorry,” she whispered into his shirt before lifting her gaze back to his.  “I took it too far, didn’t I?”

He leaned down to kiss her, because there was nothing else he could do.  “It was perfect,” he murmured against her lips.   “Now come into the bathroom and let me get you clean.”

“Ooh, yay!” she squealed, her eyes lighting up like Christmas.

Oliver grabbed hold of her hand and pulled her along with him.  They entered the bathroom together, and his gaze wandered immediately to the side of the sink.  All of Felicity’s toiletries were still there, lined up in order, just as they always were. He stared at them briefly before turning his attention to the large white porcelain tub.  Oliver let go of her hand to reach down and plug the drain before turning on the water and testing the temperature beneath his fingertips. Then he looked to the wide tiled ledge that connected the tub to the wall.  “What are all of the things you have here on the ledge?”

“Oh, it’s just bubble bath, and shampoo and conditioner, and a cup to rinse my hair. And candles and matches, of course. I love candles.”

“Well, that all sounds perfect,” he said, reaching for the bubble bath and pouring a healthy dose beneath the running water.  The smell of vanilla filled the air, and Oliver replaced the bottle on the ledge before stepping over to light the candles.  He waited until the tiny yellow lights began to flicker, and then he moved around Felicity to flip off the bathroom light switch and close the door. The room darkened immediately, because there were no windows, and he turned to see the candle flames highlight the gold in her hair.

Oliver stepped back to her, stopping just a few inches away and reaching his hand to cup her cheek. “How do you like this?”

“It’s amazing. How would you like to play another game?”

“What game?”

“The see-who-can-get-their-clothes-off-the-fastest game?”

He grinned down into her sparkling eyes.  “Oh, yes. I definitely want to play that.”

“Ready, set, go,” she said as quickly as she could, reaching for the hem of her shirt.

Felicity moved hurriedly, but she was no match for him, especially since she slowed herself up by giggling almost constantly.  By the time she got down to just her underwear, Oliver had already been buck naked and staring at her for several seconds. 

“Guess you didn’t let me win this contest,” she lamented as she reached for her panties.

Oliver placed his hands on hers, stilling her fingers.  “Wait…can I tear those off of you?”

“Oliver. This would be like the fifth pair.”

“Is that too much?” he asked, giving her his best puppy-dog face.

She shook her head and smiled. “You know what, if it makes you happy, go ahead.”

Oliver couldn’t help the grin that spread his lips while he hooked his fingers into the little straps of fabric against her hips and pulled.  Then he stepped up to her, aligning their naked bodies together, as her torn panties fell to the floor.  “Damn, that’s fun,” he whispered against her mouth, just before pressing his lips to hers.

Felicity smiled into his kiss, and it was the best feeling in the world.  His little bird had been so unsettled today – too unsettled – and it disarmed him to see her that way.  He wanted her here with him, and he wanted her happy.  “You ready to get into the tub now, Felicity?”

She kissed him once more before nodding.

Oliver turned to shut off the water, and then tested the temperature one more time, before he stepped into the tub and sat down, situating himself against the high-topped back opposite the faucet.  Then he held his arm out to her.  Felicity took hold of his hand and stepped into the water, easing her body beneath the clouds of bubbles. She moved into the same position Oliver was in, pressing her back to his chest as she pushed her bottom between his thighs. 

He wrapped his arms around her waist the moment she’d settled against him, pulling her in even closer. Felicity allowed her head to fall back against his shoulder, and he watched the ends of her hair soak into the water, turning from light gold to dark.  His eyes moved across her skin and down her chest.  Even with the dim candlelight and the surrounding bubbles, Oliver could still make out the shadows of his teeth marks against her skin. The bruises were still there, but they didn’t look angry anymore.  Oliver knew they were healing, and he didn’t feel the same levels of pain and guilt when he saw them.  But it did still amaze him to think of how much she’d given of herself, and how much she’d helped him in the few days they’d had together.

Felicity sighed, her soft body sinking against his hard one, the contours of her curves lining up perfectly in his arms.  Oliver reached one of his hands to hers, and watched the way their fingers wound together. He could feel the warmth of her skin despite the heat of the water, and he knew he would never be able get enough of this, no matter how much time they spent together.  Even though the sad truth was that they basically had no time left at all.  Oliver knew it was going to be hard as hell to get through the next week up here after she’d gone, but he couldn’t even imagine how horrible it would be to have to go back to his actual home without this.  Without her.

_I don’t want to let her go.  I want her with me in the real world.  I want to see her smiling face the first time she crosses through my front door. I want to know how it feels to sit beside her at my dining room table.  I want to sleep with her in my arms, in my bed.  I want to wake to the sight of her beside me.  Again and again and again._

Oliver’s fingers tightened to hers of their own volition.  “God, I don’t want to give this up,” he admitted in a hoarse rasp. “Do you?  Do you really want to give all of this up?”

She stilled against him, her muscles stiffening beneath the water.

He cringed when he felt her tension. And he knew he shouldn’t ruin these last moments with her, but he couldn’t help how he felt. “I just…I can’t imagine it, Felicity. I can’t imagine you leaving the day after tomorrow.  I can’t imagine having to stand there, and kiss you for the last time, and then watch you walk away from me.”

His voice left him for a moment, and he could only lay here, with her in his arms. Felicity didn’t say anything. She just held his hand inside her own.

Oliver sighed. “I know what you’re thinking. You think we’re on a speeding bus and we can’t stay together once we jump off.”

“You’re right,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.  “That is what I’m thinking.”

He closed his eyes and shook his head.  “But there’s not enough time left for us.  There are still so many things I want to know about you, and there’s just not enough time.”

“Wh-what do you want to know?”

“I want to know where you’ll go when you leave here; I want to know where you call home. And I want to know what you do for a living. Because I’m pretty sure you’re not actually a _National Geographic_ reporter.”

Felicity’s body stiffened even harder against him, and Oliver heard her breath catch with his words, and he knew he’d crossed a line.  “I’m sorry,” he offered, looking down to the side of her face, trying to gauge her reaction. “I know I told you before that you didn’t have to share anything with me that you didn’t feel comfortable sharing. And I don’t want to put you in a position where you feel like you have to lie, because I appreciate your honesty more than I can say.  I just…I want more of you.  I want to know more. I want to know where you grew up. I want to know what side of the bed you sleep on.  I want to know your favorite singer.  And your favorite food. I want you to tell me anything and everything.”

Her fingers tightened inside his.  “Oliver…I could answer all of that, but what difference would it make?  Blissful Blue still isn’t reality, and I’m still leaving the day after tomorrow.”

“I know. I know this isn’t the real world. But if it’s all just a fantasy, then I want as much of it as I can have, for as long as I can have it.”

When he finished speaking, Oliver held his breath.  He stilled beneath her, waiting to see if she would allow this.  To see if she would give him more. 

Felicity didn’t respond at first.  She just lay stiffly against him, and he could feel her body move as she breathed. Then she said, “Elvis.”

A smile tugged at his lips as he looked down to the ends of her gold hair floating in the warm water. “Why is Elvis your favorite singer?”

“Because my mother always played his songs in the car when I was little, and I fell in love with them. And, you know, the hip-swinging thing was pretty cool.”

“Yes it was,” he agreed. “And what’s your favorite food?”

Her muscles eased a bit against his chest.  “Twinkies.”

“Twinkies? Really?”

“Yes. I love things that look a certain way on the outside, but then once you get to the inside, it’s a complete surprise. Like Twinkies. Oh, and corndogs. And lemons, of course – the adorable fruit with the surprising kick inside.”

“And powder kegs,” Oliver added, relishing the ability to follow her train of thought.

Felicity reached up behind her, finding his face with her hand and cradling his jaw in her fingertips. “Especially powder kegs,” she said.

Oliver pressed a kiss to the top of her head and then reached his hand to the underside of her elbow, dragging his fingertips along the underside of her arm.  Felicity laughed and squirmed beneath his fingers, just as he knew she would, because he’d discovered this ticklish spot just yesterday. He loved knowing where her ticklish places were.  And he loved knowing about Elvis and Twinkies and lemons, even if they just scratched the surface of who she really was. 

“Will you answer something else for me, Felicity?”

“What?”

“Do you like having your hair washed?”

“Oh my God, _yes_.  I didn’t know that was an option.  Is that an option?”

“It’s more than an option, actually.  It’s a necessity.”

“Why is it a necessity?”

“Because, even though I haven’t spent nearly as much time at Blue as you have, and I’m nowhere near as good at this psychology stuff as you are, there is one theory I’m familiar with.”

“Yeah? Which one?”

“Positive reinforcement,” he said as he reached to the ledge beside them for her shampoo bottle. “You confided in me just now, and I want you to know how much I like that, so I’m going to reward you with something you like, in an attempt to further said behavior.”

“You know, I think positive reinforcement might work better if you _don’t_ tell your subject that you’re going to use it on them.”

“Well, I didn’t really have a choice.  Because I have no doubt that you would have figured it out on your own.  Now sit up, please.”

Felicity giggled as she complied, positioning herself in front of him and placing her hands on the sides of the tub. Oliver straightened behind her, pressing his thighs against her hips to keep her in place so she wouldn’t drift too far away.  Then he popped open the cap of the shampoo bottle and took a deep breath in.  “This smells like you,” he realized as he poured the thick liquid into his hands and rubbed it against his palms.  “Like a field of little wildflowers.”

The moment his coated fingers pressed into her hair, Felicity moaned.  Her shoulders dropped and her knuckles whitened against the edge of the tub, and he knew she was fighting to keep herself upright. “Good Lord, Oliver, that is just…mmm…”

He smiled as he continued, moving his fingers tenderly yet firmly across her scalp as he lathered the liquid into thick bubbles, releasing that wondrous scent all around them. Felicity instantly turned to mush beneath his hands, descending into a state of bliss that hypnotized him nearly as much as it did her.  She became soft and pliant, her breathing deep and even, and Oliver knew his positive reinforcement was working.  At least, he hoped it was. He wanted more information. He wanted more confidences. He just wanted…more. And, in the state she was in, he hoped he might actually get what he wanted. 

Oliver rinsed the shampoo from her hair using the cup she kept on the tub ledge, and then he restarted the entire procedure with her conditioner.  Felicity became nearly boneless, her hands dropping off the tub edges and falling into the water, while she swayed in time with the movement of his fingers against her scalp.  Oliver grinned as she rocked back and forth and moaned.  God, she was so _his_ right now. It was probably wrong to use her own body against her like this, but he _did_ tell her that he was going to do it, so that made him feel a bit less guilty.

Once he’d rinsed out the conditioner, and her hair was soft and slick beneath his fingers, Oliver reached to Felicity’s shoulders and pulled her gently toward him. She dropped instantly backwards onto his chest, sloshing the water around them as she collapsed. Sliding his hands down her arms and onto her hips, Oliver adjusted her between his legs, pulling her closer to him so her ass came flush with his lower abs.  Her head lolled onto his shoulder and he pressed his cheek beside hers. “How is this, Felicity? Are you comfortable?”

“Comfor’ble not a good enough word.”

He smiled with her mumbled almost-sentence, running his hands across her hips and over her belly. “I’m glad you liked it.”

“Hmm…you deserve a shampooing award.”

“I’ll take it. I like awards.”

“Me, too. Who doesn’t like awards?”

Oliver reached his hands to hers, aligning their palms together and threading their fingers. Felicity sighed and snuggled her face beside his.  She was completely calm, and completely peaceful, so Oliver decided to use it to his advantage. Because he was almost out of time, and he needed _more_. “Have you ever gotten any awards, Felicity?”

“Awards? Um, sure.  I mean, well…I got a lot in high school.”

“Yeah? What kind of awards?”

She shifted against his chest, but she wasn’t running away yet.  “Oh, you know, I won the State Science Fair and I was Valedictorian of my class…things like that.”

Oliver curled their hands together further as he smiled.  “You’re a genius, aren’t you?”

Felicity chuckled, which moved her body beautifully against his.  “Is this about me kicking your butt at _Scrabble_ the other day?  Because I’m sure you would have given me a run for my money if you’d been in a different headspace.”

“Actually, I don’t think I could ever challenge you at _Scrabble,_ no matter what headspace I’m in.  But that’s not even what I mean.  I suspected the truth of it before, but when I think about everything I’ve seen you do, and heard you say, I realize just how much of a genius you are. Mensa-level, if I had to guess. Am I right?”

Her fingers stilled inside his for a moment before she sighed.  “Yes.”

“You don’t sound happy about it.”

“Of course I’m happy, Oliver. I’m thrilled.  Intelligence is a gift and I’ve been so blessed in that regard.”

“But?”

She shook her head. “But it comes with a lot of responsibility, and I don’t know that I handled it all that well in my youth. And then, the older I got, the more seriously I took it.  I drifted away from my mother’s encouragement to be free and joyful and celebrate life, and I leaned toward my father’s goals of science and studies. I started to think that all those things my mother believed in were silly and frivolous, and I started to think I’d wasted my life running around in the woods, watching the squirrels jump through trees and watching the birds fly.”

Felicity stopped speaking for a long minute, and then she inhaled deeply and said, “You’re right, you know…I’m not a _National Geographic_ reporter.”

Oliver froze, his heart pounding in his chest.  He didn’t say a word, for fear of ruining the moment.  He listened intently, his entire body focused on hers, as she spoke again.

“When I was a kid, I always wanted to be a nature photographer.  I used to fantasize about it on my Girl Scout campouts.  And when I decided to come on vacation up here at Blue, I brought my camera with me, because it sounded fun, and it felt hopeful.” Felicity eased her fingers out of his in order to run them across his forearms.  “Do you remember the picture I took, Oliver? The photo of the yellow-crowned purple fantini that I hung up in the living room?”

“Of course I remember.”

“Well, that…that bird doesn’t exist.  At least, nowhere but in my imagination.  In the imagination of a young girl in the woods – a girl who believed everything her mother said about magic and miracles and the idea that you can do anything you set your mind to. A girl who wanted to discover a new bird, to see something that no one else had ever seen before.”

Oliver eased his arms across her belly, pulling her closer to him.  “So that’s what the picture represents?  It’s your imagination?”

“It’s…it’s everything I loved about my childhood.  All the joy, all the excitement, all the limitless opportunities laid out before me. And the day I took that photo, I actually thought I saw something in that tree.  I swore I saw that bird.  But, looking back on it now, I realize it was just wishful thinking. I saw what I wanted to see, because I wanted to believe in excitement and possibility again.”

His arms banded tighter around her as he listened.

“You told me once that you wanted to know why I came to Blue,” she whispered, the words sending chills down his spine.  “The answer is that I came here to reconnect with the joy I knew in my childhood, to begin a journey that would hopefully take me back to my roots.  I came here to feel open and free and precocious and silly again. Because I’d been missing all of those things for so long, and I just wanted to see if they were still here, inside me.”

“Did you…did you find what you wanted to find?”

Felicity grabbed hold of his forearms and held him closer.  “I got here the week before you did, and I spent a lot of that week walking in the woods.  I reminisced about the countless hours I’d wandered through the forest as a kid, looking for my fantini bird, and how I’d appreciated everything around me back then – how I appreciated every leaf on every tree.  And as the week went on, I realized that being up here at Blue was helping me so much, and that I was starting to feel whole again, starting to feel like I remembered what magic was.  That would have been enough for me; it really would have.  Just reconnecting to those feelings, to that appreciation, was all I wanted out of this vacation. But then the most amazing thing happened.”

“What happened?”

“Well…one day, after I’d finished my walk in the woods, I stepped out of the forest and I saw a man hunched over a blown tire, cursing and grumbling and being generally pissed off at life.  A squirrel had darted out in front of his car on his way up the mountain, and it looked to be the last straw for this man, because he obviously didn’t want to be here anyway. And I decided, almost from the second I saw him, that I was going to take him with me on my journey. I decided that he needed the journey, too, whether he wanted to admit it or not. 

“I knew it wasn’t going to be easy to take him with me; I knew he would resist.  But I believed I could pull him along, so I set about doing just that.  I purposefully provoked him with obvious, silly lies.  And I did ridiculous things, like tricking him into drinking straight lemon juice. All because I wanted him to fight for his life the way I was trying to fight for my own. 

“He reacted to my behavior just as I thought he would:  he fought back, and I felt good about that, because I felt like he was traveling with me. But then, after a few days, he got fed up with my lies and he pushed me away.  And that moment broke my heart, because I already knew what a wonderful man he was, and I worried that he didn’t see it in himself.  And also because I was alone on my journey again, and I didn’t want to be.

“After he pushed me away, I spent a day and a half without him, and it honestly felt like torture. But then, thank God, the next night he came back to me.  He came back looking just as miserable as I felt, and he asked me to stop lying and just be with him. That night, we stopped fighting with each other.  And we’ve been fighting _for_ each other ever since. We’ve been working together through all of this.  But, the strange thing is, I think he believes this journey was one-sided.  I think he believes that I helped him, and not the other way around.”

Felicity paused to take a breath, her body trembling in his arms.  “You don’t have any idea how much you’ve done for me, Oliver. I felt so weak and so beaten when I came here to Blue.  And I don’t feel that way anymore.  I can go back to the real world now.  I can go back and deal with all those problems and all those realities.  I have the confidence to do all of it again, and I have that confidence because of you.  Because the entire time I thought I was taking you on a journey, you were really taking me on one. And I don’t have the words to tell you how grateful I am for everything you’ve given me.”

When she finished speaking, Oliver shook nearly as much as she did. 

He had so many questions. He wanted to know what made her feel weak and beaten.  He wanted to know what took the color red away.  He wanted to know what problems she had to face back in the real world.

He had a hundred thousand bazillion questions, but she’d already said more than he ever thought he would hear, and he could tell from the trembling of her body that she’d given him as much as she could at this moment.  Oliver knew he couldn’t push her any more right now.  So he just wrapped his arms securely around her, and pressed his cheek beside her hair, and held onto her as hard as he could.

Felicity sighed inside his embrace. Her body sank against him as she allowed herself to melt into his arms.  Oliver held her even tighter.  He wanted to hold her so tight that she would just become one with him, and never be able to leave.  But he knew he couldn’t. He knew the choice to stay was hers, and he couldn’t change that.  All he could do was hold her, and hope she realized that this was where she belonged. Here, with him.

Time passed. Oliver didn’t have any earthly idea how long they lay together in the warm water, but her breathing became so even that he wondered if she’d fallen asleep.  She wasn’t snoring yet, but he could tell, even from this angle, that her eyes were closed.  He watched her face for a long moment, loving how soft and carefree she looked right now, especially after the day she’d had.  Pressing his lips beside her ear, he whispered, “You asleep, baby?”

“Hmm…not really. But you do make a fine pillow, Oliver Queen.  I could take a nap on you right now.”

“Well then, go ahead. I’ve got you.”

Felicity snuggled her face into his neck.  “My goodness, that sounds amazing. Maybe you could nap with me? Although, on second thought, that might be bad.  We probably shouldn’t both nap in the bathtub.  Drowning sounds like an awful way to go.”

Oliver chuckled. “It’s okay; I promise I won’t fall asleep.”

“Why not? Aren’t you comfortable?”

“I’m incredibly comfortable. But I’m pretty sure it’s not night yet.”

“Oh, that’s right…you don’t take daytime naps, do you?”

“No.”

“Too much wasted time?”

“Yes,” he said, knowing that wasted time had always been the reason he never napped. Although he couldn’t imagine a single moment with her in his arms ever feeling like a waste.

“Well, if you aren’t going to nap, then I won’t either.  I will stay wide, wide awake,” she insisted, peeling open her eyes and staring straight ahead.  She shifted inside his embrace, straightening her back against his chest, and Oliver swallowed hard with the feel of her soft, wet skin rubbing up between his thighs.

“Well, if you’re so wide awake, Felicity, there is something else I would like to do.”

“Yeah? What is that?”

He pulled one arm from around her waist to reach over to the side of the tub and push the shampoo and conditioner bottles out of the way, toward the flickering candles. “I want you to sit up here on this ledge,” he said, patting his hand on the freshly cleared tile surface.

“Why do you want me to sit there?”

“Because I want to push my face between your legs and then lick and suck on you until you come in my mouth.”

A tiny gasp escaped her throat.  “O-Oh. Well, that sounds…very good.”

“I’m glad it sounds good. Because it serves two purposes.”

“It does?”

“Mmm-hmm. The first is allowing me to taste you again, which I want to do.  So much.”

Felicity groaned. “And the second thing?”

“I told you earlier…I’m a firm believer in positive reinforcement.  You confided quite a bit in me just now, and I know it wasn’t easy for you, so I fully intend to reward you.”

“You don’t need to reward me for that, Oliver.  And besides…I’d say this particular reward is significantly more involved than a hair shampooing.”

Oliver smiled as he straightened himself behind her, grasping onto her hips and pushing her toward the side of the tub.  “Well, the more you confide in me, the bigger the rewards will become.  And I really want you to keep that in mind, because I absolutely mean it. Now sit up on the ledge, please. I have work to do.”

Felicity’s hands reached to the edges of the tub, gripping onto the white porcelain for a moment as she hesitated. Oliver ran his fingers over her wet hair and then down her back, tracing her straight spine all the way down to her ass.  He played with top of the soft seam that divided her cheeks, running his fingers against the little divot at the base of her spine.  Felicity groaned and her knuckles whitened. 

Oliver leaned down to press a kiss to her shoulder.  “I want you to know that I’m waiting very patiently for you to do as I’ve asked,” he whispered against her hot skin.  “Because there’s a huge part of me that wants to grab you by the ass and set you up on that ledge myself, whether you wish it or not.  But I won’t do that just yet.  I will wait a bit longer, because I have faith that you’ll do it yourself. Soon.”

She huffed out a laugh. “You certainly are pushy.”

“Yes, I am. And I’m demanding and controlling and domineering and lots of other similar adjectives,” he agreed as he ran his hands around the sides of her ass to catch the edges of her hipbones beneath his fingertips.  “Of course, you already know all that about me.  And you know I’m working on being better about my control issues. But you did tell me the other night that you want the real me when we’re together, and this is me, being my pushy and demanding self.  Now I would like for you to sit up on the ledge please.  I won’t ask nicely again.”

Felicity released her hands from the edge of the tub.  “I did tell you that I want the real you.  And I meant it.” 

Oliver watched hungrily while she pushed herself up on her knees.  The motion brought her ass to the perfect level in front of his eyes, and he stared hard at her rounded cheeks while the water sluiced down her skin. His cock thickened and throbbed and he licked his lips as Felicity moved to the side of the tub and lifted herself up to the ledge.  Then she sat down on the cold tiles, with her back against the wall, and looked to his face.

Oliver could see all of her perfectly from this position, even in the dim glow of the candlelight. His gaze roamed over her body, across the tight peaks of her nipples and onto the gentle curve of her belly. He could still make out the faint line of bruises on her chest, and even though he knew they were healing, he still found it hard to believe that she accepted all of him with such an open heart. Especially since the last time he’d had his face between her legs was in the woods, just after he’d made those bite marks.

He stared at the fading purple edges for a moment longer, and when he looked back to her face it took him a minute to refocus on her eyes.  Once he did, Oliver saw the anticipation written inside her. And he also saw, so openly and plainly, the adoration she held for him.  “You know I would never purposefully do anything to hurt you, right?” he asked, because he couldn’t bear to think of anything or anyone hurting her, but definitely not him.  Not ever again. “I mean, I like being in control, especially during sex, but I need you to know that I would never…”

“Hey,” she said, stopping his words as she reached out to run her fingers down the side of his face. “Of course I know.”

He nodded. “Good.”

A slow, gorgeous smile pulled up the edges of her pink lips.  “I’m actually very much looking forward to my positive reinforcement right now, Oliver.”

He watched as she nibbled her lower lip in her teeth, and his hands fisted in the water, his entire body pulsing with the desire to touch her.  Oliver allowed his gaze to fall back down her form, taking in all of her curves before settling on the juncture of her closed thighs.  Then he reached his hands to her hips, pulling her a bit closer to the edge of the tub, as he centered himself in front of her knees.

He looked up to her face once again.  “Spread your legs for me, Felicity.”

She did as he instructed, her eyelids immediately falling to a drunken half-mast. Oliver smiled before easing his body forward in the water and lowering his mouth to her belly. Felicity’s thighs encased his chest while he began licking the skin over her stomach and her hips and her thighs. He played and nipped and teased, listening to the eruption of sweet giggles from her throat as he worked his tongue slowly and worshipfully across her body.  Oliver knew this wasn’t anything like it had been the first time in the woods, and he was thankful for that.  He wanted Felicity to know that this could be different, and that he could make her feel a million different things.  And he wanted her aching and begging to know them all.

Once Felicity stopped giggling and started moaning as she squirmed beneath him, once her thighs began trembling as they clamped against his ribcage, Oliver knew she’d had enough teasing. So he put them both out of their misery. He kissed his way down her stomach, and onto her soft skin folds, and then he ran his tongue straight up the seam of her sex.  She cried out with the sensation, and her fingers reached for his hair.

Oliver repeated the motion again, licking up her folds and onto the tight nub of nerves at the top. He tried to taste her – he wanted so badly to taste her – but realized quickly that he couldn’t. They’d been soaking in this tub too long, and her skin was perfumed with the scents of vanilla bubble bath and floral shampoo. He loved those smells on her, but they weren’t what he wanted right now.  He wanted _her_. He didn’t want her skin wet because of this water.  He wanted to make her wet, to have it come from inside her, to have her body openly plead for his. So he took his time tonguing her, sucking gently on her tender skin as she moaned and shifted her legs, dragging her feet in the water and lapping the bubbly warmth against his skin.

When he finally pushed his tongue deep inside the heat of her body, Felicity curled her fingers tightly into his hair, imprisoning his face against her.  He wanted to take a moment to tell her it wasn’t necessary to hold him here.  He wanted to assure her that the hounds of hell couldn’t drag him away from his clawing need to taste her, but he didn’t want to spend that much time away from her skin. Because she was truly wet now. Her taste soaked his tongue as he curled it inside her.  Her back arched and her thighs shook and her voice cracked as she chanted his name and begged for unintelligible things. 

Oliver smiled against her salted skin while he grounded her hips in his hands, pulling her against him so he could get better leverage for his mouth and his tongue. Her legs shifted rhythmically, her body rocking into his mouth as she groaned and whimpered. Oliver could feel the tension tightening inside her, and he quickened his movements, licking and sucking and breathing in her intoxicating scent as he tasted her sweet flesh over and over again. And then she came apart, her hands fisting into his hair while she cried out.  Oliver’s erection pulsed and throbbed in the water as he drank her in – all of her – from her taste in his mouth to the sound of her gasps to the sensation of her warm skin against his lips. 

He didn’t let up anytime soon. He continued running his tongue against her soft, wet folds, over and over again, just to keep feeling her tremble. He could have persisted indefinitely, but then he heard a thud and an, “ _Ow_.” Lifting his head, Oliver looked up to see Felicity holding the back of her head in one hand.

When her glassy eyes met his, she let out a little giggle.  “Sorry,” she offered, her voice panting and breathy.  “Forgot where I was again and banged my head into the wall.”

Oliver couldn’t help smiling. “Come here.  Let me kiss it and make it all better.”

“More kissing? God, there’s so much kissing. It’s wonderful.”

He chuckled as he eased himself away from her, careful not to displace too much water while he leaned back against the tub and held his arms out to her.  Felicity sunk into the warm bubbles and fitted her bottom between his thighs again, cozying up to him with her back against his chest. Oliver took her head in one hand, cradling her against him so he could press his lips to the damp hair she’d bumped against the wall.  “There. How is that?”

“Hmm…perfect. I’m all better now.”

“I think we might need to get you a helmet or something.  You keep hitting your head when you come, and we need to protect all these amazing brains of yours.”

Felicity laughed out loud at his statement, which caused her body to shake against his, which made his thick, swollen cock twitch into one of her ass cheeks.  “Mmm,” she moaned, reaching her hands to his legs. “You’re so hard, Oliver.”

“Do I need to apologize for becoming aroused by tasting you?”

“No, no, no. Don’t ever apologize for that. Bless you for enjoying it.”

“Fuck, yes, I enjoy it. More than I can say.”

Her fingers clamped against his thighs as she shifted her ass back against his throbbing erection. “And you’re so good at it. I mean, I don’t have much to compare it to, but dear Lord I can’t imagine it getting any better than that. You’re just…magic.”

Oliver wanted to take the time to dwell on her compliments, but he was having difficulty focusing on anything but the movement of her body.  Felicity pressed her bottom firmly against his cock, and rocked her hips as she did, while her breaths left her chest in staccato pants. Damn, she was so eager for him – just straining to feel him – and it only made him harder, knowing how responsive her body was to his.

He took her by the shoulders, stilling her movements for a moment as he cleared his throat to speak. “What do you want to do right now, Felicity?”

“I…I think you know.”

“Yes, I’m pretty sure I know. But I would like for you to tell me _exactly_ what you want.”

She shook her head, and a little laugh escaped her throat.  “I know this probably seems silly to you, after all we’ve done with each other, but it still feels strange to say the words.”

Oliver ran his hands from her shoulders down to her wrists, dragging little droplets of water with him, watching them caress her skin.  “I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.  Ever.  But, if you can, then I would love to hear you say what you want me to do to you.”

“You would?”

“God, yes. I would.”

“Well, then, I want…I want to feel you inside me.  I want you to fuck me now, Oliver.  Here, in the water.”

“How would like me to fuck you?  Do you want to turn around and face me?  Or do you want me from behind? Fast or slow?  Hard or gentle?”

“Um…from behind, I think. Just like this. And as for the rest, surprise me.”

He smiled to himself. “Well, we should probably go slow, so we don’t spill too much water over the side of the tub. We made enough of a mess in the kitchen with the water fight yesterday.”

“Oh my God, that water fight was so much fun!”

“It was. This is going to be fun, too,” he promised, grasping onto her hips and lifting her.  Felicity grabbed hold of the sides of the tub and tilted her ass up toward his abs.  Oliver’s erection found the entrance to her sex almost instantly.  It was like his cock had some sort of internal homing beacon just for her, and he chuckled with the thought.

She turned her head to look back at him.  “Is something funny?”

Oliver looked into her eyes, watching the blue darken as he pushed himself inside her while he pulled her hips down.  She whimpered as their bodies joined, and the moment he became fully sheathed by her sex Oliver reached for her hands, pulling them from the side of the tub to entwine their fingers. “Nothing is funny about this. It’s just…it amazes me sometimes, how well we fit together.”

She allowed herself to fall back against him again, resting her back to his chest and her head to his shoulder. “I know, right? I’m glad you think so, too. I thought maybe I was just imagining that.”

Oliver shifted his hips just enough to pull out of her an inch or two before sinking back in. She groaned and he smiled. “You’re not imagining anything.”

Felicity tugged his hands closer, wrapping them around her waist and holding them against her. “I think I’ve mentioned this before, but it feels really good having you inside me.”

“You did mention that before. And I assure you it’s going to feel even better soon.”

“Yeah? Why is that?”

“Because I’m going to make you come again, of course.”

Felicity’s body stiffened with his words, her fingers knotting against his, and Oliver’s brow furrowed as he tried to see her face around the dark gold hair that clung to her cheek. “What’s wrong? Do you not want to come again?” he asked, although the question sounded infinitely bizarre.

She let out a sigh, hugging their arms tighter around her.  “Oh, no, it’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just…”

“Just what?”

“I haven’t, um, I haven’t ever done that before.”

Oliver’s jaw unhinged. “Are you actually telling me that you’ve never had more than one orgasm during sex?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Good God, Felicity,” he growled, pressing his eyelids shut.  “Seriously, who are these men you dated before me?  I fucking hate every single one of them.”

She shook her head. “It’s…it’s not all their fault. I wasn’t exactly open to trying new things.  I wasn’t like this, like I am with you.”

Oliver blew out a held breath as he reopened his eyes to refocus on the side of her face. “Alright, well, I am going to take selfish pride in the fact that you’re willing to try new things with me. But it’s still an abomination that no one ever made you come twice.  And honestly, I feel like an asshole for not giving you more than one orgasm before now.”

“Oh, please don’t feel that way.  What you give me when we’re together – the way you make me feel – it’s just incredible. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever known. And besides, I’ve always felt pretty fortunate to have one orgasm during sex.  I mean, I’ve spoken to women who don’t even get that, so…”

“Felicity?”

“Yes?”

“You’re going to have another orgasm now.”

“But, it’s really not…”

“Baby, let me do this. You know I can.”

Felicity tensed in his arms – which was the exact opposite of what he was trying to accomplish – as she whispered, “But…what if it’s not you?  What if it’s me?  What if _I_ can’t?”

Her words sounded tiny and fearful and it killed Oliver to think that she believed something might be wrong with her just because she hadn’t experienced more than minimally adequate lovers.  Holding tighter to her hands, Oliver pulled her farther back onto his chest as he shifted his hips to push his heavy cock even deeper into her warmth.  She shivered in response and he pressed his lips to her shoulder.

“Felicity, do you even realize how sexy you are?  Because you are. You are incredibly beautiful and so, so goddamn sexy.  I don’t think you have any idea of how much I want you.  And I’m not even talking about the emotional or intellectual aspects of you right now…I’m just speaking from a purely physical standpoint. Because physically, my body aches for yours.  I’ve told you that before, and I meant it.  If I could be inside of you all fucking day long, I would.  Because I want you all the time.  Constantly. You are gorgeous and perfect and I want you so badly that it’s painful.”

Felicity whimpered with his words and Oliver took a moment to kiss his way up her neck. “You always say that you feel free when you’re with me,” he whispered beside her ear. 

“Oh, I do. So free.”

“Good. Then just be free with me now. Just let everything else go, and be here with me, and let me give you this.  Because I want to.  More than you can imagine.”

She exhaled slowly, her tense muscles easing.  “Okay.”

He smiled in silent triumph as he pressed another kiss to her wet shoulder.

“Um, Oliver?”

“Yes?”

“Just in case it doesn’t work out, thank you in advance for wanting to try.”

With a shake of his head, he uncurled his arms from around her body, releasing her fingers and flattening both his hands against her softly rounded belly.  “You’re welcome, in advance, for the next orgasm. Because it’s going to happen.”

Felicity giggled then, which may have been the best sound he’d ever heard, and she reached one hand up to thread her fingers into his hair as she turned her face to his. Her mouth found his instantly, and Oliver curled his body around hers as he eased his tongue past her lips to taste her.  She kissed him back, loving and yet eager, and he allowed his hands to roam across her skin beneath the water, circling over her tummy and her hips and onto her thighs.

She spread her legs farther apart, as far as the white porcelain walls would allow, and planted her feet against the bottom of the tub beside his knees.  It gave her the leverage she needed to push herself up off of him and then back down again, sliding his cock in and out of her body as she moaned into his mouth.  Oliver kissed her again and then smiled against her lips, because he knew she was doing as he’d asked:  allowing herself to be free with him.

He drew one hand back up her body, taking the weight of one breast in his palm as he ran his thumb across her nipple.  When she sucked in a little breath, he pressed another kiss to her mouth and eased his other hand down her inner thigh to the juncture of her legs.  She shifted herself up and down on his shaft again, and it was his turn to moan as he parted the folds of her sex with his fingers, searching out the soft little nub he’d spent so much wonderful time sucking on earlier.

“ _Oh_ ,” she groaned when he found his target. “That is…um…”

“Is this touch okay?” he asked, running his fingertips lightly across the sensitive bundle of nerves. “You’re not too tender from earlier?”

“I feel a little tender, but…in a good way.”

“That’s good. Now I want you to put your hand on top of mine, please.”

“On top?”

“Um-hmm.”

Felicity kept one hand entangled in Oliver’s hair as she turned her head to look down. Then she did as he instructed, easing her other hand down across his forearm and wrist and then further still. Once her palm rested against the back of his hand, directly over her sex, she took a deep breath and asked, “Like this?”

“That’s perfect. I want you to guide me.”

“You mean…guide you to touch me?”

“Yes. I want to touch you like you would touch yourself.  You do touch yourself, right?”

“Oh yes, that I can do. I hadn’t had a boyfriend in a while before we met.”

Oliver had to clear his throat with that admission, because the only thing he really took from that sentence was that she considered him her boyfriend.  “Well, that’s…um, that’s good.  Now just move my hand the way you want it moved.”

It took her a few seconds to actually do what he said, but then she did.  She moved her fingers over his, and he mimicked her touch, easing his fingers through the top of her folds in the warm water. Her skin was soft and slick as she concentrated his touch around her nerve bud, circling and pressing against it as she shifted her hips up and down to ride his erection. Oliver watched the few remaining bath bubbles break against her arms, watched her fingers as they directed his own over the soft skin between her legs.  She hummed and purred with the sensation, and then he added the rhythmic stroke of his other hand across her nipple.  That made her own hand go faster, her fingers running harder across his as he pressed down into her skin. 

She wound herself up, sliding up and down his erection while teaching him how to touch her. Her fingers moved so quickly and eagerly across his that she slipped a bit too far down, onto the base of his cock where it joined with her sex.  Oliver inhaled sharply from the feel of her fingers there, and Felicity stilled her movements. “I’m sorry,” she panted. “Did that hurt?”

“Fuck, no. It didn’t hurt.”

“Did it…did it feel good?”

“Yes,” he admitted, his voice little more than a rasp.

“Oh,” she said. Then she reached down again, easing her fingers across the only part of his erection that wasn’t planted firmly inside her.  It sent a pulse of electricity shooting through his shaft and he closed his eyes on a groan. The sound he made only emboldened her, and Felicity reached farther down to smooth across the skin of his balls before easing her fingers back up to the base of his cock. Oliver bit his tongue and pressed his forehead onto her hair as she repeated the motion again and again, while he continued playing his fingers across her nipple and over her tender nub. Her breaths came in shallow spurts as she explored him with her hand, and Oliver could barely keep himself together.

“You…you probably need to stop doing that,” he confessed after several minutes of sheer bliss. “Because I don’t want to come without you.”

“I wouldn’t mind.”

“Felicity, you’re having a second orgasm, damn it.  Please return your hand to mine.”

“Oh, alright,” she huffed with a laugh as she aligned their fingers together once again.

Oliver couldn’t help chuckling.  “Well done. Now behave yourself, and remember this is about _you_. We are both going to touch you until you come.”

“But I want you to come, too.”

“Good Lord, that won’t be an issue, trust me.  Just keep showing me how you want to be touched.  I need to do this exactly the way you want it.”

“But…everything you do is exactly the way I want it.”

His face fell into her hair and he kissed the damp gold curls beneath his lips.  “Would you please stop being so adorable when I’m trying to fuck the hell out of you?”

“Sorry,” she offered with a giggle. “I promise I will take this more seriously.”

He smiled despite himself. “Good.  Now move my hand with yours again.”

She complied, pressing down on his fingertips while they shifted in tiny circles across her nerve bud. Felicity settled back against him, and rested her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes with the sensation. Oliver watched the air heave in and out of her chest as she used her thighs to press up and down in the water, riding his cock while they stroked her sex together.  Her hand slipped back down again, to where their bodies met, and Felicity moaned.  “God, that feels amazing,” she sighed as her fingers spread apart around the base of his shaft.

Oliver eased his lips onto her shoulder, tasting her on his tongue.  “What feels amazing?”

Felicity’s fingertips ran across his sex and onto her own.  “You and me, joined together.”  She moved her hand back to his then, urging his touch further down. “Feel this, Oliver. Feel this with me.”

He did as she asked, spreading his fingers out through her folds and then around his cock.

Oliver could feel himself, and he could feel her.  He felt her soft, wet skin where it opened up so willingly to accept the hard, thick length of him inside her body.  He felt the slickness from inside her coating each of them, even in the surrounding water. He felt her pliant folds as they wrapped so eagerly around his cock.  “Damn, you’re right,” he growled against her skin.  “That does feel amazing.”

Felicity’s head fell back onto his shoulder again and she pressed her cheek to his jaw. “It does.  It feels so incredible.”  Her hand was still on top of his, and she pushed down, encouraging his palm to flatten against her.  “That’s…mmm-hmm…right there,” she groaned.

Oliver could feel the tight jutting of her tender little nub against his palm as he pressed further down into her skin, guided by her.  “Just like this?”

She gripped the side of the tub with one hand, using the leverage to push herself up and then back down again, sinking onto his erection as the fingers of her other hand continued to touch both of them, curling around the base of his cock right where it met the opening of her sex.  “God, yes. Just like this,” she panted, pushing up with her thighs before impaling herself once again.  His palm shifted against her as she moved up and down, over and over again, while her fingers gripped the base of his shaft. Oliver could feel the point of entry of his body into hers, right there against his fingertips. He could feel the slick gliding together of their skin, and he knew she felt it, too.  That sensation of togetherness was both sensually erotic and emotionally overwhelming, and he fought the urge to run from it. Because he didn’t want to run. He wanted to be here, with her, feeling everything.

“Oh, oh, Oliver…” she moaned, riding him faster and harder as she pressed his palm into her skin, fucking both his cock and his hand.  Water sloshed violently around them as she moved, but Oliver didn’t give a damn about anything but her.  Because he could feel her winding up – winding up to come apart around him – and he wanted that. Holy hell, he wanted that more than anything in the world.  It was the only reason he held on as long as he did.  It was the only reason he made it until she breathed, “Oh, _fuck_ ,” and her entire body shuddered and trembled on top of him.  The second her inner walls began contracting around him, Oliver was done.

He screamed when he came. He screamed so loud that he worried he would hurt her ears, so he bit into the skin of her shoulder just to muffle the sound.  Felicity cried out in utter pleasure, her body thrashing in the water as she gasped in shallow breaths between harsh exhales and moans.  The orgasm went on forever, for both of them, and Oliver closed his eyes as his body poured itself inside hers.  The instant her muscles stopped convulsing, Felicity degenerated into an amorphous mass and flopped back against his chest.  Oliver somehow had the presence of mind to grab hold of her head and cradle it against his own, because even though he wasn’t exactly sure of where he was at the moment, he did know that he didn’t want her banging those big beautiful brains of hers on another hard surface.

When the side of her face made contact with his, Felicity turned toward him and pressed her lips to his jaw.  Oliver smiled while she ran her mouth across the stubble of his cheek.  Then he sighed as she rested her forehead against his ear and settled down further against him.  He wrapped both his arms around her, pulling her even closer, and they lay in silence for several minutes as Oliver focused in on the soothing sound of her slowly calming inhales and exhales.

Eventually, Felicity managed to mumble out, “Wow.  I don’t, uh, really know what to, um, say about that.”

Oliver chuckled. “Neither do I. Maybe we just shouldn’t say anything.”

“You’re right,” she agreed, bringing her hands up to cover his where they rested against her waist. “Well, I mean, except for _thank you_. I should definitely say thank you.”

“But you already thanked me, before we even got started.”

“Yeah, but that was a thanks for _trying_.  This is a thanks for really, truly _succeeding_.”

He smiled as he wound their fingers together.  “Well then, you’re welcome.”

Felicity snuggled herself farther into his arms, and sighed contentedly, and Oliver closed his eyes with the peaceful, settling feeling.  Until she stiffened and said, “Oh, _no,_ Oliver. Look what we did to the floor.”

He peeled one eyelid open to see. “Hmm.  We spilled a little water.”

“A _little_?  It’s practically a lake.”

“Yeah, well. Shit happens.”

Felicity chuckled. “It does, doesn’t it? But I should probably clean it up now.”

“Nope,” he said, his arms tightening around her.  “I’m not letting you go yet.”

“Oliver, the floor…”

“Will be fine for a little while longer.”

“But I should…”

“Felicity, I will only let you get out of this tub right now on one condition.”

“What condition is that?”

He took a deep breath in. “If you tell me that I can stay the night with you in your bed.”

Her fingers twitched against his.  “I don’t…I don’t think tonight is a good idea.”

Oliver exhaled slowly. “You did promise me that you would spend an entire night in my arms before you left Blue.”

“Yes, I know I did. Just not tonight.”

“But that only leaves tomorrow night.”

She nodded against his chest. “Yes.  Tomorrow.” 

Oliver shook his head and sighed. “Okay,” he agreed, because he didn’t have a choice.  Then he raised one leg out of the water to move his foot to the spigot, turning on the hot water with his big toe.

Felicity looked to the faucet as fresh water poured into the tub.  “What are you doing?”

“Replacing the water we spilled. And making it a little warmer for you.”

“But…aren’t we getting out? I need to clean the floor.”

“I can clean the floor later.”

“But…”

“Felicity, we are not leaving here yet.  I told you that you could only get out of this tub on one condition, and you didn’t meet that condition. So now we stay.”

“Oliver. We’ve been soaking in water a long time. We’re going to turn into prunes.”

He shrugged. “I like prunes. I mean, they’re not as cute as lemons, of course. Really, they’re just dry, wrinkly plums. But still admirable in their own way.” The heat from the newly filling water began seeping in around them, and Oliver banded her more solidly to his chest.

Felicity shifted against him. “Well, even if we stay, I don’t know what you expect us to do in here.  Because I don’t think I can have a third orgasm.”

“Oh, you could. I can prove that to you, if you want. But that’s not what I expect of you right this minute.”

She tilted her face up to his. “What do you expect of me?”

Oliver met her searching gaze. “I expect you to take a nap, Felicity.”

Her brow rose. “A nap?”

“Yes. I know it’s been a long day for you.”

“Well, yes, it has, but…”

He reached out, smoothing her damp hair from her face.  “Please don’t overthink it, baby.  Just let your mind rest for a while, okay?  Let your mind rest and just be here with me.”

Felicity sighed, her shoulders relaxing against his chest.  “My God, that sounds…that sounds heavenly.  Although I feel kind of guilty, because you won’t get anything out of this.”

“Actually, that’s not true at all.  I’ll get to feel you sleeping in my arms again, like you did that night on the couch. I want that – I want to feel you at peace in my arms.  And since I’m not allowed to lay with you in a bed right now, I’ll have to settle for the bathtub.”

The water had filled back up to its original level, and Oliver reached his toe to the faucet again to turn it back off.  Felicity giggled. “You sure do have some talented feet, there, Mister.”

He ran his fingers through her hair and onto her neck, massaging into her muscles.  “I like to think I have a lot of talented body parts.”

“Oh, don’t I know it,” she agreed, moaning with his touch before tucking her forehead into his shoulder. “Are you really sure it’s okay for me to nap on you?”

“Yes.”

“But what if you get tired, too?”

“I won’t. Trust me, Felicity. I’ve got you.”

She reached her hand up to his chest, her fingers brushing over his heart.  “I know you do, Oliver.  Thank you.”

He pressed another kiss to her hair. “You’re welcome. Now go to sleep, please.”

“Hmm…’kay,” she sighed, her body already slumping further onto his.  In just a few moments, her hand fell into the water and she was out cold.

Oliver smiled into her gold curls.  “Don’t worry, little bird,” he whispered. “I’ve got you. I’ve always got you.”

...

 **A/N** :  Thank you again for reading, my dears.  I would love to hear what you think - and please come say "hi" on Tumblr anytime (I'm tinaday3w on there, too).  This will be the last post I can do before the new year, so I hope you all have a truly blessed and wonderful holiday season!  :)Tina

Up Next...Chapter 11:  The First Date


	11. The First Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Sweethearts! Happy 2016! I hope everyone had wonderful holidays. Thanks so much for the wonderful comments on the last chapter and for all the encouragement to continue with this story...it means the world. I apologize for taking so long to get this chapter out, life has been a bit hectic but I also really wanted to spend time on this one and hopefully get it just right. I'm so enjoying escaping into this story for a while; I hope you are, too :)

Oliver woke alone in his bed, just as he always did at Blue. His days here had assumed a pattern: morning basketball with Tommy, afternoon therapy sessions with Lance, and then dinner with Felicity…followed by a lonely walk back to his cabin, and another night alone in his bed. But it wouldn’t be that way tomorrow. Because tonight, Felicity would finally fulfill her promise to him, and tomorrow he would wake beside her, wrapped in her arms, in _her_ bed.

Of course, he would then be forced to get out of her bed. And kiss her goodbye. And watch her walk away from him. And then he would stand there, wondering how in the hell he would ever reassemble his heart.

With a harsh exhale, Oliver opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. He couldn’t believe this was his last day with her. He couldn’t believe she was actually leaving. Especially since he didn’t even know where she called home.

_I will always be able to find you, Felicity._

He’d said those words to her just yesterday, and they were true. How many Felicity Megan Smoaks could there be in the world? If he couldn’t find her with a simple Internet search, he could get someone else to find her. All he had to do was walk into his IT department back at Queen Consolidated and grab hold of Curtis, who was his friend as well as his employee. Curtis was a genius at computers, and could find Felicity for him. He could find her so easily.

But what good would that do, if she didn’t want to be found?

Felicity obviously didn’t want Oliver coming after her once she left Blue. She believed they were on a speeding bus right now, and as much as he wanted to deny her logic, he understood the analogy. After all, only two weeks had passed since he’d first laid eyes on her. Two weeks filled with overwhelming, and sometimes brutal, emotions. He’d been more open with her than he’d ever been with anyone in his life. And he’d watched her struggle with the two sides of herself, trying to come to terms with who she really was. They’d seen each other at their most vulnerable, and they’d clung to each other in desperation.

It wasn’t exactly what he could call a normal relationship.

 _God, maybe Felicity is right_. _A bond like ours probably isn’t meant to last forever. It’s too immediate, and too delicate, and to force it into a world of harsh realities would most likely shatter it into a million broken, bitter pieces_.

Oliver stared off into space, trying to convince himself of those truths. Because honestly, he knew Felicity’s reasoning was logical and practical and made perfect sense: Blissful Blue was a vacation, a break from life, far from reality. And they were just two people who’d found each other for a brief moment in time – like a spark of something unexplained in the night sky – and to try to hold onto that would be foolish and irrational, at best.

So she would walk away from him tomorrow, because that was the prudent, reasonable thing to do. She would walk away from him, and it would be horrifying. It would be sheer, utter hell, and Oliver didn’t even want to think about it, let alone live it.

The worst part of it all was that Felicity had tried to warn him. From the second he admitted that he wanted to kiss her, she told him it wasn’t a good idea to act on their attraction. From the minute he convinced her to become his lover, she cautioned him that they would have to go back to reality eventually, and that they might come to regret indulging in the fantasy of this relationship. Because that’s what all of this was: a fantasy.

Oliver sat up at the edge of the bed then, planting his feet on the hard wood floor. He rested his elbows against his thighs and dropped his forehead into his hands. “Oh, hell. I understand now,” he breathed into the cool air.

For the first time, he understood why Felicity sent him away every night, and why he woke alone in his cabin every morning. His little bird had been trying to protect him. She’d been trying to protect him, and to protect herself. Because she always knew they each had to return to reality without the other, and she’d wanted to save them both from feeling the loss of something they never really had.

Felicity couldn’t allow either of them the luxury of dreaming about a future, because they had no future. They would never go out on a date, or stroll through town hand in hand, or wake entangled in each other’s arms on a lazy Sunday morning. Felicity understood that those things didn’t exist for them, so she’d separated this one thing – the moment of making love in a bed and falling asleep in each other’s arms – in order to distance their relationship as much as possible from the real world.

Oliver understood now why she did it. He understood that she wanted to protect both of their hearts. And he appreciated that she’d tried.

But she’d failed.

He shook his head. “Damn it,” he grumbled, because he knew he’d lost his control with Felicity. He’d lost control of so many things, not the least of which were his emotions. That fact scared him at first. He’d practically had a panic attack the first time they’d had sex, because his pull to her was so hard and so fast and so strong and it was all too much, too soon.

Yet his feelings for her had only grown since. They’d grown wildly and exponentially, and Oliver had become so used to them that they didn’t frighten him anymore. He loved how he felt with her. He loved who he was with her. And now he wanted to embrace these ridiculous, amazing emotions. He wanted to ignore her incredibly prudent decision to part ways amicably, and grab hold of this chance at happiness, however unlikely it may be.

But that obviously wasn’t what Felicity wanted.

He’d tried, just yesterday in the bathtub, to tell her that he didn’t want to give up on them. Yet for whatever reason – whether it was the speeding bus or something else entirely – Felicity didn’t believe they could be together when they left Blue, and she refused to change her mind. But Oliver couldn’t comprehend that. He couldn’t understand why his little fairy didn’t see the potential of their relationship like he did, far beyond these mountains.

_Good Lord, what the hell happened to me? When did I become the sunshine optimist in this scenario? At what point did I forgo logic and reason, and choose to believe that anything is possible? And why won’t my frolicking freebird agree with me?_

Oliver stood and began to pace in front of his bed. He balled his fists in frustration, because he knew what he _should_ do. He knew he should embrace the logical truth of the situation, and accept his fate, and allow her to walk out of his life. But he just couldn’t fathom doing that. He didn’t want to be logical or reasonable anymore. Not when it came to her.

There were just too many things he needed from her. He needed her to tell him where in the world she lived. He needed her to commit to seeing him again next week. And the next week, and the next. He needed her to admit that they could make this relationship work, however long-distance it may be, if they both just wanted it badly enough. He needed her to believe that, if they worked together, they could turn this fantasy into a reality.

Oliver huffed out a laugh. Because he already knew there was little-to-no chance of any of those things actually happening. His Felicity was quite stubborn, and he probably couldn’t convince her to change her mind about their logical fate.

He probably couldn’t _talk_ her out of anything. But maybe, just maybe, he could show her a different path. She had one more day here at Blue, and Oliver could use this time to show her how wonderful things could be for them, as a real couple in the real world. He could romance the hell out of her, so she wouldn’t ever want to leave. It probably wouldn’t work. She would most likely dig in her heels, and not budge an inch. But, even if she refused to see reason – or more like the _opposite_ of reason – then at least he would get to experience everything he possibly could with her in the few hours they had left.

Because Oliver knew that his feelings for Felicity ran way too deep now. And that nothing in the world could make the thought of losing her tomorrow any less painful. So he didn’t see the purpose of holding back.

Reaching for his shirt, Oliver peeled off his clothes on the way to the shower. He wasn’t going to keep his set schedule of basketball and therapy today, because anything that kept him away from her just sounded like a pile of bullshit. So he washed quickly, and dried off, and pulled on pants and a shirt, and hurried to the living room. He grabbed his breakfast tray from the porch, and shoved a few bites of croissant in his mouth before gulping down his orange juice. Then he picked up the phone and dialed Cabin 13.

Mrs. Claus answered the phone. “Blissful Blue Retreat, this is Betsy. How may I help you this fine morning?”

He smiled when he heard her voice. “Good morning, Betsy, this is Oliver Queen.”

“Hello, Oliver! How are you, dear?”

“I’m good. But I won’t be able to see Dr. Lance today.”

“No? But you missed your appointment yesterday, too. Is everything aright?”

“It’s fine, I just…I have something I need to do. Can you please tell him I’ll be there tomorrow?”

“Okay, Oliver. You take care of yourself, and we’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Betsy,” he said before ending the call and dialing Cabin 11. Tommy didn’t answer, so Oliver left a quick message that he wouldn’t be at the gym today. Then he dropped the receiver back in place and reached for his shoes. He barely got his keycard in hand and shut the door behind him before his feet bounded up the gravel.

Anticipation built in his chest as Oliver wound his way up to the main paved road, and over it, and then onto Felicity’s driveway. Anticipation and… _hope_. God, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this hopeful. Just a week ago, he’d asked Dr. Lance if a man with such a selfish, uncaring past even deserved to have a family. And then just yesterday, Oliver imagined Felicity holding his baby girl in her arms. That image was…beautiful. Startling. But _beautiful_.

Everything about his forest fairy had been beautiful yesterday. She’d played with him, and leaned on him, and confided in him, and he needed more of that, more of her. Especially after she’d napped so peacefully in his arms, in the warm bath water, before spending the rest of the night cuddled up with him on her couch, grinning and laughing and pressing tender, loving kisses to his lips.

Oliver wanted today to be just as wonderful and sweet and perfect as yesterday had been. Because if he could prove to her that they could have that every day, then maybe, just maybe, Felicity would agree with him that this shouldn’t be their last day. This should be their _first_ day.

He reached her porch in no time at all, and bounded up the stairs, half expecting the door to pop open to her smiling face. But he also wasn’t surprised when she didn’t appear, because Oliver knew she wasn’t anticipating this visit. Grabbing hold of the handle, he knocked and entered at the same time. “Felicity?” he called as he stepped into her living room.

Movement came from the back of the cabin, but she didn’t reply. Oliver closed the door behind him and walked toward her hallway. “Felicity? You here?”

“Oliver?” She emerged from the bedroom, halting when she saw his face. “What are you doing here? You’re not supposed to be here right now.”

Felicity stilled in the doorway between the living room and the hall, and Oliver took a moment to study her. Her blond curls were pulled back into a tight ponytail, and she wore black slacks and a sensible blue blouse. Her stance was rigid and purposeful. She wasn’t glowing or bouncing or even smiling as she stared him down from across the room.

Oliver faltered. His heart thudded deep in his chest and his footsteps ceased, because he recognized this woman. This was Solemnly Sedate Felicity.

He hadn’t seen her very often up here at Blue, but he would know her anywhere. This was the rigid, purposeful woman who lived inside his little fairy’s body. The woman who was logical and reasonable and didn’t play any games. The woman who wouldn’t give him any leeway. This Felicity was serious and sober and strict, and Oliver knew he should probably tuck his tail between his legs and run the other way. But he wasn’t about to back down.

Taking a deep breath, he matched her intent gaze with his own. “I came to spend the day with you, Felicity.”

Her brow arched as her body stiffened even further. “But you aren’t supposed to be here until tonight. You’re supposed to play basketball with Tommy this morning, and then go to your therapy session with Dr. Lance this afternoon, and then come here for dinner. Later.”

“Well, I decided to change those plans.”

“But, no, this isn’t…hmm.” She put her hands on her hips, glaring at him as she tapped her bare toes against the floor. “You promised me, Oliver. You said if we spent yesterday together, then you would go to therapy today. _You_ _promised me_.”

Her eyes flared with fire as she spoke, and Oliver couldn’t have been happier about the fact that she was so completely pissed off at him. He actually felt positively giddy about it, because he knew that the opposite of love was apathy. And Solemnly Sedate Felicity wasn’t at all apathetic right now. She was mad as hell.

Honestly, the sight of his angry little bird was pretty fucking adorable, and Oliver couldn’t help grinning. “I can see Dr. Lance tomorrow,” he assured as he resumed moving toward her. “And the next day, and the next.” He only stopped walking when he stood directly in front of her, and she had to crane her neck to look up at him while he smiled down into her eyes. “I can spend the rest of the week with him, Felicity. But I only have today left with you.”

She was obviously struggling to stay mad at him. Oliver could tell by the way she forcibly furrowed her brow, and by the way she pinched her pink lips together before huffing out a breath. But he just reached out, and ran his hands down her arms, and caught her fingers inside his own. Then he leaned forward, until his face came just inches from hers. “Tell me you’re happy to see me, Felicity. Tell me I can spend the day with you.”

She swayed a little beneath his touch, and Oliver pulled her even closer. Felicity licked her lips, and he watched the movement of her tongue hungrily. She trembled, just slightly, before she closed her eyes.

Felicity took a moment to breathe, and then placed one hand firmly against his chest and shook her head. “I am happy to see you, but you can’t be here right now,” she insisted, just before turning on her heels and heading back through the hallway to her bedroom. “I have too many things to do today.”

Oliver followed close behind her, but stopped when he came to the doorway of her room. A pile of clothes lay on her bed, right beside her open suitcase. “Oh…you’re packing.”

Felicity grabbed a shirt and folded it with expert precision before laying it meticulously inside her luggage. “Yes, I’m packing.”

He forced himself to shrug, even though the sight of it made him want to vomit. “Okay, well, I can wait here until you’re done.”

She exhaled heavily as she grabbed another shirt to fold. “It doesn’t make sense for you to wait here. I have a bunch of other things to do after this, so it would be easier if you just came back later, like we planned.”

Oliver folded his arms across his chest and rested against the doorframe. “What other things do you have to do?”

“I just…hmm.” She glanced up at him. “Why don’t you come back for dinner, Oliver? I promise I’ll make everything very nice for you this evening. Besides, there isn’t anything for you to do here today, and watching me pack will be boring.”

“Nothing you do ever bores me.”

Felicity stilled, and stared at him for a long moment, before returning to her task. Oliver absorbed the tautness of her muscles as she tended to each piece of clothing with detailed attention. He’d never seen anyone pack luggage so precisely, but it made perfect sense for Solemnly Sedate Felicity to do so, because this was a precise and meticulous woman. This was the woman he’d first caught sight of the night his freebird fed him straight lemon juice. She was the woman who lamented being on vacation. She was the woman who lined her toiletries up in order of usage. She was also the woman who’d warned him – who’d warned them both – about the perils of acting on the fantasy of this relationship. And she was here now, standing before him, preparing to return to all the problems of the real world.

There was a part of Oliver that wished she _wasn’t_ here right now. Part of him wished he could just be with Frolicking Freebird Felicity for one last day. But the other part of him was happy to see this stoic, serious side of her again, because he understood that Solemnly Sedate Felicity was a huge, interwoven part of the person he cared so deeply for. And he also understood that, if he had any chance of being with _his_ Felicity in the real world, then he would have to work his way beneath the hardened shell of this woman before him.

So Oliver stood quietly in the doorway, and watched her structured, stiff movements, as she prepared her things to leave.   He stood quietly, but determinedly. Because he knew she was going to try to push him away, and he had no intention of letting her. Not today.

Once Felicity finished placing the last of her items carefully inside her suitcase, she closed the top, and zipped it, and then started to lift the large bag. “Here, let me,” Oliver insisted, stepping into the room and rounding the bed to reach for the handle.

The moment his hand covered hers, Felicity’s breath caught. Her fingers tightened on the bag as she looked up to his eyes. “I’ll be okay, Oliver; I can do this on my own.”

He stared down into her. “Yes, I’m certain you can do everything in the world on your own. But you don’t have to.”

Felicity blinked a few times before releasing her hardened grip. “Well…thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Where would you like me to put it?”

“In the living room, please.”

“Alright.” Oliver pulled the heavy suitcase off the bed and carried it through the hall and into the front room. He set it down beside the couch before turning to observe her as she scurried through the kitchen. “So, what’s next on the to-do list?”

“I have to clean out the fridge,” she mumbled while opening the door and burying her head inside the cold shelves.

Oliver watched her pull out several leftover bits of food, throwing them into the trash. Her eyes darted from the fridge to the counter to the trashcan, but never to him, and her movements became quicker and less efficient as she continued.   She emptied it all out, until only one thing remained. The last item Felicity pulled from the shelves was her lemonade. The remaining yellow fluid sloshed against the glass as she hoisted the large pitcher onto the counter.

Moving across the living room, Oliver came to a stop on the opposite side of the counter and stared at the glass container. “What are you going to do with that?”

She straightened her shoulders when she finally looked up to him. “It’s time to let it go,” she insisted, but the quaver in her voice betrayed her. She wasn’t holding herself together nearly as much as she wanted him to believe, and Oliver knew she needed him now, whether she admitted it or not.

As Felicity poured the sunshine yellow liquid into the sink, Oliver walked around the counter, coming slowly toward her. He only stopped when he reached her side, and he watched her face as her eyes focused on the lemon juice disappearing slowly down the drain. Then he glanced down to her hands, seeing her fingers tremble while they attempted to steady the glass. Her breaths left her lips in little gasps, and Oliver knew she was barely holding back a sob, and he couldn’t stand to see her this way.

“Hey,” he whispered, reaching out to take the now-empty pitcher from her unstable grip. He set it on the counter and then reached for her hands, winding their fingers together as he pulled her toward him. She stiffened immediately, her eyes darting up to his.

“Felicity. Relax. Take a breath. I need you to breathe.”

She focused hard on his eyes, her gaze locked to his even as her body shivered. She stared up at him for a long minute before nodding stiffly. Then she forced herself to inhale.

Oliver offered her a smile as he looked down into her sky blue. “I know you’re getting ready to go back to the real world. And I know there are problems waiting for you there. But right now, you’re still here with me, and we have one day left together. I want to spend it with you. Please.”

It took a moment for his words to register, but he could tell when they did, because her shoulders fell and her fingers eased inside his. She exhaled as she shook her head. “I want that, too. I would love it, actually. But I still have so many things to do today.”

Oliver inched closer. “Like what?”

“I…I have to go into town.”

“You mean the town at the bottom of the mountain?”

“Yes. I need to pick up a few things.”

“What things?”

She nibbled against her lip before answering. “Well, I need new underwear, for one.”

“New underwear?”

“Yes. I mean, I could get them when I get home, but things will be hectic when I get back, because it’s always like that at home, but it will be especially hectic at first, because I’ve been away for so long, and I won’t be able to go shopping right away, and besides, there’s a really cute little women’s boutique I like at the bottom of the mountain, and I could go there tomorrow on my way out, but tomorrow is Sunday and a lot of the stores here are closed on Sunday, so I really can’t go tomorrow, and that just leaves today.”

He couldn’t help smiling at her run-on sentence. Because if she was babbling, it meant she was nervous. And if she was nervous, it meant she wasn’t as certain about her decisions as she wanted him to believe.

“You know, Felicity, the fact that you need new underwear is definitely my fault, so I should be the one buying them for you.”

She shook her head immediately. “I can pay for my own underwear.”

“I’m sure you can, but that’s not the issue. I tore them off, so I should pay for them.”

“Oliver…”

“No, it’s settled. I’m coming to town with you. No choice in the matter. I am bound by honor to buy you new underwear. You wouldn’t deny me my underwear honor, would you?”

Her brow quirked up. “Underwear honor?”

“Yes. That’s a real thing. And I need to maintain it. So I’m coming. Do you want me to drive? I can, although my car still has a spare tire and may not be the smoothest ride.”

“Actually, I was going to take my car, but…”

“Okay, great. We’ll take your car. And while we’re in town we can probably get a bite to eat and maybe walk around a bit and…”

Felicity reached a hand to his chest, stopping him mid-sentence. Her fingers smoothed across his heart, and her face truly softened for the first time since he’d arrived. “Baby,” she breathed as she stared up into his eyes, “what are you doing right now?”

He exhaled. “I’m making plans to take you out on a date. Our first date.”

She cringed, a mixture of sadness and fear and pain moving across her face.

“Please don’t say it,” he begged, his voice barely a whisper. “Don’t say that it will be our last date, too. Because I would like to think of it as the first, even if it’s just for today.”

Felicity stood there for a long while, with her eyes searching his, and then she opened her mouth to speak. Oliver already knew her words would be in protest, and he didn’t want to hear them, so he kissed her instead. He wrapped his arms around her, and dragged her onto his body, and kissed her, deep and loving and thorough.

It took a good, solid minute, but she finally gave in to him. She gave in to the heat and the pull and the need between them, and melted into his body as Oliver wound his tongue with hers, tasting and teasing and tempting. He continued exploring her mouth, rather mercilessly, until she swayed against him. Only then did he pull back to look to her face.

Felicity had trouble keeping her eyelids open as she gazed up at him. “Mmm,” she hummed while licking her lips.

Oliver brought his hand up to run his fingers across her cheek and into her hair. “Tell me I can spend the day with you in town. Tell me we can have our first date.”

She nodded slowly. “O-okay, Oliver.”

He smiled. “Perfect. Thank you.”

Felicity whispered, “You’re welcome,” before trying to pull away from him. But Oliver just held her tighter, and she smiled at his persistence. “You will have to let me go, you know – for a minute or two at least – so I can get my car keys.”

He frowned before releasing her, and then watched as she exited the kitchen and stepped back down the hallway, her ponytail swinging behind her. Oliver waited impatiently, with his heart in his throat, because he had the unsettling mental image of her climbing out of her bedroom window to escape. It was all he could do to stand still and remain calm.

When Felicity finally stepped back into the kitchen, with an extremely large purse in one hand and a set of keys in the other, Oliver exhaled. She fidgeted with the keychain while she looked to his eyes. “My car is in the garage. We can go out the side entrance.”

He nodded, and followed on her heels when she led him to the door at the back of the kitchen. “You know, I always meant to complain about the fact that you got a cabin with an attached garage and I didn’t. Is it because Pete Jackson is madly in love with you?”

Felicity burst out laughing while she stepped into the garage, toward a sleek black 4-door BMW. “Of course Pete isn’t in love with me. He has his eyes set on another woman at Blue.”

“It’s Betsy,” Oliver stated while attempting to absorb the sight of Felicity’s car. He’d never imagined her driving something like this. He’d just assumed that his frolicking freebird would most likely own a VW bug with Dr. Seuss hats painted on the outside. Or, at the very least, an orange van with pompom-fringed curtains in the windows and a peace symbol on the back door. He hadn’t expected a sensible sedan.

“You’re right, Oliver; Pete does have his eyes on Betsy. Have you seen them together?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Then how did you know?”

“Because they just fit,” he explained while stepping to the driver’s door to open it for her. Felicity smiled up at him before settling down into her seat.

Oliver shut the door behind her and then rounded the hood of the BMW, glancing down at the license plate on his way to the passenger side. He opened his door and sat down bedside her on the smooth, tan leather. “Felicity, is this a rental car?”

“No, it’s mine.”

A ridiculous grin spread across his face, and Oliver grabbed hold of the seatbelt to prevent himself from jumping up and down and pumping his fist in the air. Because her license plate was issued in Virginia, which meant she lived within a few hours of Starling City, no matter where she called home. She didn’t come from Timbuktu. And he could get to her quite easily. If she only wanted him to.

Felicity buckled her seatbelt and looked over to him. “Why do you think Pete and Betsy fit together?”

Oliver forced himself to calm down and shrug. “I guess it’s because he reminds me of a gnome, and she reminds me of Mrs. Claus. They’re a good match. Just like us.”

Her eyes widened. “Are you saying I remind you of Mrs. Claus?”

“Of course you’re not Mrs. Claus. You’re a bird.”

“A bird?”

“Yes. So free and so colorful and so beautiful.”

A smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “If I’m a bird, then what does that make you?”

“Well, when I first met you, I thought maybe I was just a statue.   But now I’m pretty sure I’m a tree, with all of the cracks and crevices in the bark.”

“Really? Do you like being a tree?”

“At first I didn’t, but now I’m good with it.” He stilled, focusing in on her eyes. “Birds just love trees, you know.”

Felicity looked into him for a long minute before turning her gaze to the windshield. “Yeah, they do,” she whispered, her fingers fumbling with the keys as she started the engine and pulled the car onto the gravel driveway.

Oliver grinned to himself as she drove them out onto the main road. This day was going so much better than he expected. He’d accomplished so much already, even with Solemnly Sedate Felicity by his side. Honestly, as much as he loved spending time with his freebird, this side of her truly intrigued him. He wanted to know this woman. And he wanted this woman to trust him, and depend on him, and adore him, just as much as the other woman did.

“Do you mind if we listen to music while I drive?”

Her voice pulled him from his thoughts. “Of course not. What do you have?”

“Well, I can’t get a radio signal up on the mountain, but you can play anything you like on my iPod. It’s in my purse.”

“Okay.” Oliver reached for her purse and began rummaging through the contents. The bag was ridiculously oversized, considering she only had her wallet and iPod inside, and he shook his head at the unsolvable mystery of women’s purse needs as he grabbed the little electronic device. Setting the bag back down, Oliver began shuffling through her music lists. He made a selection quickly, and turned up the volume.

Felicity smiled as _Blue Suede Shoes_ began. “Did you choose Elvis just for me?”

“I like Elvis, too, actually. Everybody likes Elvis. Honestly, I think it’s unconstitutional if you don’t.”

She laughed. “My mother would love to hear you say that.”

“Well, I’ll be sure to tell her, if I ever get the chance to meet her.”

Felicity’s eyes darted to his, just for a second, before she refocused on the road. Her fingers gripped harder to the steering wheel, and Oliver reached out to her. He ran his hand purposefully across hers, smoothing over her skin again and again, until she released her fierce hold on the wheel. Then Oliver smiled as he let his hand drop down to her rest against her leg.

“I’m looking forward to this ride with you, Felicity.”

She didn’t respond to the statement, and he honestly didn’t expect her to. Because he knew she was nervous right now, and doubtful, and confused, and he was okay with all of that. In fact, he wanted that. He wanted her to question every decision she’d made before this moment. And to realize that there was more than one road this relationship could travel.

Felicity stayed mostly quiet for the rest of the car ride, except for the few times she sang along with Elvis, which made Oliver smile as he listened. When they reached the bottom of the mountain, she turned onto the main road. Oliver watched a town materialize, along with a vague memory of having driven by it two weeks earlier. A beauty salon, a tailor, a hardware store, and a restaurant were among the miscellaneous offerings of Bottom-of-Blissful-Blue town, and Felicity pulled into a parking space between the hardware store and a women’s clothing shop. She reached for her door handle, but he squeezed onto her leg. “Wait, I’ll open it for you.”

“Oliver, I am perfectly capable of opening my own do…”

He jumped up out of his seat before she could finish her sentence. And he rounded the hood quickly, because he wanted to make sure he could get to her before she hopped out and scurried away from him. When he opened the driver’s door, Felicity grabbed her purse and stood, staring up at him with her forehead crinkled.

Oliver ignored her look of curious confusion and reached for her hand, threading their fingers together. Then he shut the car door and pulled her toward the sidewalk. Felicity followed along, but he could feel her eyes on him the entire time, and as they started walking Oliver couldn’t hide his wild smile.

Felicity exhaled. “Are you doing alright today?”

“Me?” he responded, glancing down to her face. “Yes, I’m good. I’m fantastic, actually. I really like taking a stroll with you. Through town. Hand in hand. Because that’s what we’re doing right now. We’re strolling through town hand in hand.”

“O…kay. Well, we don’t need to stroll any more. The store is right here.”

“That’s alright. It still counts as a stroll.”

She tilted her head up to his, and she looked adorably perplexed, so Oliver bent down and kissed the tip of her nose. “Is this the underwear honor store?”

Felicity chuckled. “Yes, I suppose it is.”

“Hmm…it’s odd that they don’t write that on a sign somewhere,” he mentioned as he pulled on the handle. She giggled again while he held the door open for her, and then she reached out and took hold of his hand. Her fingers remained entwined with his as she led him around the various racks and tables, and Oliver felt more encouraged with every step.

When she finally stopped at a table full of underwear, he picked up a pair of hunter green thongs. “These are nice. Are these your size?”

Felicity looked down to his fingers. “Oliver, can I please pick my own?”

“Well, of course you can. I just think this color would look nice on you. Most of the underwear I tore off of you were black.”

A woman cleared her throat behind them then, and Felicity’s eyes widened as the other shopper stepped away. Oliver watched a beautiful pink glow flush Solemnly Sedate Felicity’s cheeks and he bent down to press his lips to her ear. “Sorry,” he whispered. “Guess I said that a bit too loud.”

“Just a bit,” she agreed. But then she smiled, which made him smile, too. “So, you think I should get some different colors?”

“Yes. Get one of every color.”

“But there are a ton of colors here, and you only tore five pair.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m buying you every kind of underwear you want. I’ll even get you Granny panties.”

She burst out laughing, which drew the attention of two other shoppers.

He watched as Felicity clamped her hand over her mouth to muffle the sound. But she kept giggling beneath her fingers, and Oliver reached his arm around her waist, pulling her against his side. “Don’t hide that smile from me. Please.”

She dropped her hand from her mouth and swatted his shoulder. “Oliver, you can’t say things like that to me in public! And how do you even know about Granny panties?”

“I grew up with two women in my house. I know things. So I’ll buy some for you, if you want.”

“No, no, no,” she insisted, although she still smiled as she shook her head. “You are _not_ buying me Granny panties. I don’t wear those…very often. And I shouldn’t need any more until I _am_ a Granny. Although, I’ll need to have kids before I can be a Granny, and I guess it’s possible I might need to wear them when I’m pregnant, so…”

“Pregnant?”

Felicity’s mouth dropped open as she stared up into him. “I…I didn’t mean anything by that. I mean, I’m not pregnant. I’m on birth control, and…”

Oliver reached one hand to her face, cupping her cheek. “God, you would look so beautiful pregnant.”

Felicity blinked beneath his intent gaze. “O-Oliver,” she breathed, her skin flushing redder under his fingertips.

He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to kiss her so badly – and maybe also do a bunch of other things to her that would be terribly indecent in public – but he stopped himself, because of the look of fear written in her eyes. Dropping his hand from her face, Oliver straightened beside her and smiled. “I mean, I know you don’t want to be pregnant now,” he said, trying very hard to act nonchalant. “You told me that the first time we went into the woods. You said you didn’t want to be a single mother.”

Felicity reached up to touch her hot cheek. “Yes, I did, um, I did say that.”

“But you do want to be a mother someday? After you’re married?”

She swallowed hard. “Yeah, sure, someday, but…”

“How many kids do you want?”

“Oliver…why are we talking about this?”

He shrugged. “I’m just curious. How many kids?”

“I-I don’t know. Maybe two?”

“Two. That’s a nice number. I like two.”

Her brow crinkled as she stared up at him, and then she cleared her throat and shifted her gaze back to the table. “I think I should finish shopping now.”

“Yes, of course,” he conceded, watching the side of her face as she tried to concentrate on making her selection. He probably shouldn’t have continued on so far with the children topic, but he really was curious as to how many she would want, and honestly, he wanted her to know that he’d thought about having a baby with her. Because he had. And it was a happy thought. Unexpected, but happy. That’s how everything was with her.

“Here, I’d like to get these,” she said, grasping her hand around several colorful panties.

“I don’t think that’s one of every color.”

“It’s five. Thank you for the offer to buy more, but this is all I need.”

Oliver sighed as he glanced down. “Well, at least you got the hunter green ones. That makes me happy.”

She looked back up and gave him a little smile. “Let’s go, okay?”

He nodded, resting his hand against her low back as they moved to the cashier. Oliver paid for their purchase, and waited for the woman at the counter to wrap the underwear in frilly tissue and hand the bag to Felicity. Then they walked out side by side.

The chilly October air surrounded them the moment they left the store, and Oliver encircled his arm around her shoulder while they moved toward the car. As he stepped off the sidewalk, Felicity reached into her purse and pulled out her key chain, offering it to him. “Here, Oliver. You go ahead and get in the car; I need to use the restroom and I think the hardware store has one.”

“But, I…”

“I’ll just be a minute,” she insisted as she set the keys in his hand, “and then we’ll head back to Blue.”

“Oh.” He barely got the word out before she turned on her heels and disappeared into the store beside the clothing shop. Oliver stared after her for a while before he turned to open the passenger door. He huffed as he sat, upset by the fact that she already wanted to leave town, and also by how overly eager she seemed to get away from him for a few minutes. Not that he could blame her. After all, he realized he’d come on a bit strong with the whole kid conversation, and she probably needed some space after that. He hadn’t meant to upset her; he just liked talking with her about the future. He only wished that she liked it, too.

Oliver exhaled as he waited for her to return. His eyes fell from the windshield onto the BMW’s dashboard, and then onto the door of the glove compartment. And the most interesting thought occurred to him. _Felicity’s car registration is most likely in there. It will have her home address on it._ _The information is right there. Inches away. All I have to do is open that little door and reach inside._

His fingers twitched against his thighs as he stared down temptation. And then he swore a string of curses beneath his breath. Because he wasn’t going to do that. He wanted so badly to know where she lived, but he wanted _her_ to tell him.

And if she didn’t _want_ to give him that information, then there was no point in having it.

With a growl of frustration, Oliver tore his gaze from the glove compartment and stared out of the window. His eyes scanned the rest of the shopping center, until they zeroed in on a movie theater. Oliver smiled at the sight, because he was still on a mission today. _Mission: First Date._ It was a romantic mission, of course, yet still filled with its share of perils and uncertainties. And it had only just begun, because he still had a ton of romance to smother all over her.

His gaze darted to the left when Felicity emerged from the hardware store with her purse and frilly bag in hand. He opened his door and jumped out of his seat the moment he saw her, moving swiftly around the car to join her on the sidewalk.

“ _Oliver_ ,” she breathed when he stepped up to her, standing so close that she had to tilt her head back to see his eyes. “Why did you get out of the car? We’re driving back now.”

“No, we’re not.”

Her eyebrow arched. “We’re not?”

“Nope. We’re going to see a movie.”

“But we don’t…”

He silenced her protest by wrapping both arms around her back and pulling her against him. Oliver held her tight while he lowered his face to hers and pressed their lips together. Felicity tried to fight him for all of one second, keeping her mouth rigid until his tongue traced across the seam. And then she sighed and opened up to him, allowing him a proper, thorough, extensive kiss as her body melted slowly onto his.

“Mmm,” he hummed against her lips after several long, languorous minutes.

“Hmm,” she grumbled, prying open her heavy eyelids to look up at him. “That’s really unfair, you know.”

“What’s unfair?”

“The way you just grab me and kiss me whenever you want to change my mind about something. I know you’re using my attraction for you against me.”

“Wait. Are you saying you’re attracted to me? I did not know that.”

Oliver gave her a crooked smile and she laughed.

“You think you’re pretty cute, don’t you, Oliver Queen?”

“Don’t _you_ think I’m cute?”

Felicity rolled her eyes. “Good Lord, yes, I think you’re cute. It’s disgusting, really, how freaking adorably cute you are.”

He chuckled with her words, and then kissed the tip of her nose. “Let’s go see a movie, Felicity. You did say that you’d spend the day in town with me, and this is our first date, so I want to do something you’ll enjoy. And I know you absolutely love movies.”

She brought her hand up to rest over his heart. And then she nibbled her lip as her fingers ran restlessly over his shirt. “Why do you think I love movies so much?”

“Because you quote them _all_ the time.”

“I do not quote movies _all_ the time.”

Oliver grinned down at her. “You’ve quoted _Star Wars_ , _Speed_ , and _Spiderman_ just within the last few days.”

“When did I quote _Spiderman_?”

“Last night in the tub. You said your intelligence came with a lot of responsibility.”

“That’s not a _Spiderman_ quote.”

“It basically is. ‘With great power comes great responsibility.’ Totally _Spiderman_.”

She laughed, sparkling and bright, and the sound moved straight into his chest. “Okay, maybe that was a little _Spiderman_ -like.”

Oliver leaned down and nudged his nose against hers. “You love movies,” he whispered against her lips. “So let’s go see one together. And then let’s have dinner afterward. There’s an Italian restaurant right here. You like Italian, right? Everyone likes Italian.”

Felicity rolled her eyes, but couldn’t hide her smile. Then she arched up and pressed her lips to his before whispering, “You’re lucky you’re so cute.”

“God, don’t I know it.”

Her shoulders shook with laughter as she gazed up at him. “Okay, Oliver. Let me put my bags in the car and we’ll go see a movie and have dinner.”

Oliver nodded at her with purposeful intent, attempting to look composed while he struggled to not shout, “Hooray! Hooray!” and giggle like a schoolgirl.

…

Felicity hadn’t given him her home address yet, or made him any promises for a future. But as Oliver sat beside her in the movie theater, he still felt a sense of accomplishment. Because this was a date, an actual _date_ , and it felt like he’d won the Romance Olympics.

He thoroughly enjoyed winding his arm around her shoulder, and feeling her rest her head against him, in the darkened theater. He savored stealing a kiss whenever the mood struck him, and loved how her eyes reflected the light onscreen when she gazed up at him afterward. He adored it when she fed him popcorn and then giggled when he nipped her fingers. Oliver barely even watched the movie – it was some romantic comedy about a stoic architect who figured out that he was in love with his secretary after she took revenge on him for ignoring her for six years – because he spent nearly all of his time watching Felicity. Because they were on a date. A _date_. And he was just fucking giddy about it.  

Dinner proved to be just as amazing to him, seeing her seated across the white linen tablecloth of their cozy corner table. She was still Solemnly Sedate Felicity, sitting straight and pristine in her chair with her napkin folded impeccably on her lap, but she also had a glow of happiness to her. She smiled as she looked at him, and made excited little noises when she read the menu, and ordered enough food to feed a small horse, because she said she couldn’t decide what she wanted and so he’d told her to just get everything, so they could taste it all.

When the waiter walked away after removing their menus, Felicity reached for her water glass and downed several gulps with camel-like fervor. Oliver grinned. “Thirsty?”

“Yes,” she admitted after setting her glass down. “That popcorn was salty. I love movie theater popcorn, but I’m always so thirsty afterward.”

“You could get something else to drink if you like. Maybe some wine?”

“Oh, no, thank you. I still have to drive back to Blue after dinner.”

“I could drive us back.”

Felicity’s hand curled around the stem of the water goblet, her fingers fidgeting with the glass. “No, I would rather drive. But I appreciate the offer, Oliver. I appreciate everything you’ve done today.”

“You mean, on our _date_.”

A shaky laugh left her throat. “Yes, on our date. I want you to know how much I appreciate all of this…although I still wish you had seen Dr. Lance earlier today. You need your time with him.”

Oliver reached his hand out on the table then, opening it palm-up to her. Because her fingers were working mercilessly against her water glass, and he just needed to hold them. She stared at his offering for a moment before releasing the stem of her glass and resting her fingers onto his. Oliver exhaled slowly with the feel of her skin. “I promise I’ll stay in therapy, Felicity. You don’t have to worry, because I’m not afraid of it anymore.”

Her eyes drew back to his. “Does that mean you enjoy your sessions with Dr. Lance?”

“I do, actually. He helps me put things in perspective. And he gives good advice.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Well, the other day we talked about achieving a work-life balance.”

She huffed out a laugh. “Wow, that sounds wonderful. Maybe Quentin could help me figure out that one, too.”

Felicity’s fingers began fiddling with his, and Oliver studied the look in her eyes. “I take it your job is stressful?”

“Well, I mean, I’m not the CEO of a multi-billion dollar corporation, but yes, my work has stressors. Everyone’s work does. But that’s okay. I can deal with that again now.”

“Because your vacation at Blue helped you?”

“Because _you_ helped me.”

He tried to calm the fidgeting of her fingers by running his thumb across her knuckles. “You know, I bet your mother would be proud of how you’ve ventured back into the woods these past weeks.”

Felicity smiled brilliantly with his words, and the sight of it brought a deep, infusing warmth to his chest. “Yeah, I think she would be proud of me.”

“Will you be able to see her when you go back home?”

“No. Unfortunately, I haven’t seen my mom in almost a year. She moved to Vegas a while ago and now she works as a cocktail waitress in a casino.”

“A cocktail waitress? Does she need the money?”

“Oh, no. Dad left her with a fortune in life insurance. She works there because she loves the excitement of the place. And because of Elvis, of course. When I do get the chance to visit her, we go to watch the impersonators sing. I just love it.”

“That sounds amazing. I would love to see you in Vegas, dancing and singing with the Elvis impersonators.”

Felicity laughed, but it died quickly in her throat.

Oliver knew why. He knew he’d gotten back to the forbidden subject: their future. “I guess I’ll never get to see that, will I?” he wondered aloud.

She blinked several times before glancing down to speak to the tablecloth. “We both have lives to get back to, Oliver.”  

He held tight to her hand. “You’re right; I do have a life to get back to. I have a company to run, and friends and family to spend time with. And I have a goddaughter to love.”

Felicity’s gaze rose back to his with the mention of baby Sara, and she gave him a tremulous smile. “I’m so glad. Those are all such wonderful things.”

“Yes, they are.” _Except that I won’t have you, and you are what I want the most._ “So, what about you? What do you have to go back to?”

“Oh, just work, mostly,” she sighed. “And plants. I have a lot of plants.”

Oliver couldn’t help grinning with her words, because he could easily imagine her surrounded by a forest of greenery. “Anything else? Besides work and plants?”

“Like what?”

“Like people? I know you said you haven’t had a boyfriend in a while, but maybe there is someone…”

“No. There’s no one.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know. After what happened with my last boyfriend, I just…”

“What happened?” he asked, straightening in his seat. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“No, no, he didn’t hurt me. Actually, he asked me to marry him. And I said yes.”

Oliver had to clear his throat. “Y-you were engaged?”

She nodded, and his gut churned.

“But you didn’t marry him?”

“No, I didn’t. Ray and I were together for three years, and we were going to get married, but then I broke it off.”

“Why?”

“Because after my father died, it didn’t feel right. Ray was a cardiac surgeon, just like my father, and Dad died right on his desk. I questioned a lot of things after he passed. And after I broke up with Ray, I just didn’t find anyone else I wanted to be with.”

Oliver watched the sadness move through her eyes and his heart sank. “I’m sorry you’ve been so alone, Felicity.”

She tried to give him a smile. “Thank you, Oliver. I’m sorry you’ve been alone, too.”

He nodded as he stared down at their joined hands. “So, you were with Ray for three years?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s funny; I was with McKenna for three years, too.”

“Oh, yes, the woman who asked you to marry her. Will you go back to her now?”

His brow quirked up as he returned his gaze to hers. “Why would I go back to her?”

“Well, you said Dr. Lance gave you a new perspective on life. I just wonder if that new perspective includes McKenna.”

Oliver huffed out a laugh. “First of all, _you_ were the one who really gave me the new perspective. And as for getting back together with McKenna, absolutely not.”

“But maybe she could make you happy now.”

“No, she can’t.”

“You’ll never know unless you try.”

“Actually, I do know,” he said, pinning her blue eyes with his own, capturing her beneath an intent and determined stare. “Do you remember that day in the woods? The day I told you about what happened with Carrie?”

“Of course I remember.”

“Well, you told me then that I’d been looking for the wrong kind of woman. And I was too stunned at that particular moment to really absorb what you said, but you were absolutely right. I didn’t see it when I was with McKenna, but I do now. I know she wasn’t the right person for me, because I didn’t laugh with her. And we didn’t play together. She didn’t challenge me. I didn’t ache to hold her. I never wanted to marry her. And I couldn’t imagine having children with her.” Oliver paused to run his thumb across her fingers. “I didn’t know who I was looking for before, but I do now. I know exactly who I want to be with, Felicity.”

She may have stopped breathing for a moment. She became so still as he watched her that Oliver didn’t think anything in her body moved at all. He knew then, without a doubt, that Felicity understood he was talking about her. And he was perfectly happy with that.

“Oliver, I…” she started, her voice trailing off as she held his gaze.

He saw so many emotions pass through her eyes at that moment: longing, affection, craving, adoration, need, want, ache. Her hand squeezed inside his. Felicity held onto him so hard, while her eyes revealed everything he wanted to see. And as he watched her, Oliver knew for certain that he wasn’t alone in his struggle with these magnificent, tumultuous, overwhelming feelings. Felicity felt all of it, too. This beautiful, wondrous woman felt everything he did, and he couldn’t help but smile as the emotions in her eyes reflected his own.

“I…I just…” she tried to speak again, her words coming out breathy and more than a little frightened.

Oliver didn’t want her to be scared. He held tight to her hand, trying to soothe her fears. Because he knew how terrifying this was. _Two weeks_. They’d met each other just two weeks ago, and yet now he couldn’t imagine having to endure another day of his life without her. And he knew these feelings were scary as hell. But that didn’t mean they weren’t real.

As far as he was concerned, they’d lived a thousand lifetimes together in the past two weeks, and he’d come out on the other side with an entirely new outlook on life. A bright, positive, hopeful outlook. Oliver knew he owed all of that to her, and it made him feel like his heart would climb out of his chest and crawl across this table just to get to her. And that was pretty fucking wonderful.

“Thank you, Felicity.”

She blinked her eyes. “What?”

“Thank you,” Oliver repeated, still holding onto her as he smiled. “I don’t know if I’ve said it properly before, so I want to say it now. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me. Thank you for taking me along with you on your journey of self-discovery. Thank you for helping me understand my life. Thank you for showing me how to be happy.”

Oliver felt himself glow as he said the words. He glowed with happiness and joy and unbound adoration, and he looked to her, expecting to witness all of those things reflected back at him. But he couldn’t have been more wrong.

Felicity’s face changed. Her entire body changed. Her lips pulled down, and her shoulders sagged, and the light in her eyes dimmed the moment he finished speaking.

Oliver didn’t understand her reaction. He studied her while she sat forever in silence. Then he watched her force a smile on her face as she stiffened her spine.

“You’re welcome,” she said, her voice soft but determined. “I know you’ll find a way to be happy once you return home, Oliver. I want you to be happy. You certainly deserve it.”

He opened his mouth to speak – to tell her that she was the _one_ person, of all the people in the world, who made him the happiest – but then the waiter showed up with their meals, and Felicity pulled her hand away as plates of food were set before them. Oliver kept his arm on the table. He left his hand open to her, in case she decided to hold onto him again.

She didn’t.

They started eating, and Felicity made the effort to engage in small talk over dinner, but the air between them had changed. Oliver couldn’t comprehend it. All he’d done was thank her. He thought it would make her happy, to know how grateful he was for all her actions. But now it felt like she was a million miles away from him, and he didn’t have a clue as to why.

She stayed remote through the rest of their meal, and when they walked out of the restaurant and back to her car, and as he sat beside her while Felicity drove them up the mountainside in the dark night. There wasn’t much light in the car at all, but it was just enough to see her, and Oliver studied the side of her face while she downshifted the gears in order to scale the steep incline. She looked so serious, and so sad, and he wanted nothing more than to soothe whatever weighed so heavily on her mind.

Oliver reached out, placing his hand on her shoulder. Felicity tensed instantly. But that didn’t deter him. He started massaging her, pressing his fingers into the tight muscles of her shoulder and her upper back. Felicity fought him at first, staying as stiff and still as possible, but eventually a little moan escaped her lips. She relaxed beneath his hand, and Oliver understood that he was taking advantage of her body’s responsiveness to him; after all, she’d told him just hours ago that it was unfair of him to use her attraction for him against her. He considered feeling bad about it, but then he remembered how often she’d used her therapeutic touch on him, and decided not to feel guilty. Because his little fairy always craved his touch, and since she wouldn’t communicate with him in words right now, all he had left were actions.

So he used them. He massaged across her back and her arm, and then down to her leg, letting the warmth of his skin permeate through the thin material of her pants as he spanned her thigh with his hand. Felicity whimpered while Oliver stroked down to her knee and then back up again, skimming his fingers close to her inner thigh. She shifted in her seat, and he smiled as he watched her teeth nibble against her lip in the dim light.

Oliver knew Felicity still believed they were on a speeding bus, and they couldn’t be together once they jumped off. But he’d believed, just this morning, that they would never get to go out on a date, or stroll together through town hand in hand. Yet they had. They’d done both of those things, and the day had been damn near perfect. And Oliver knew the one thing that would push it over the edge – right into complete bliss – would be the chance to make love to her in bed, and then wake beside her in the morning.

They were almost back to the cabin now. It was almost time for Felicity to fulfill her promise to him, and spend the entire night in his arms. Oliver’s hand squeezed tighter to her in anticipation, and a groan escaped her throat as his fingertips skimmed close to the juncture of her thighs. He knew he could use her body against her if he had to – if she tried to go back on her promise – but he didn’t want to travel down that road. Because he wanted her to _want_ to be with him. He wanted her to need him as much as he needed her.

Oliver was so focused on the feel of Felicity’s warmth beneath his fingers that he barely noticed her slowing the car. But then he heard the crunch of gravel under the tires, and he looked up to see her cabin at the end of the driveway. He reluctantly pulled his hand away, instantly missing that touch, as she fitted the BMW into the garage once again. The moment she parked, Felicity grabbed her purse and bag and then leapt up out of the car. Oliver barely had the chance to undo his seatbelt before she was inside the cabin, out of his sight.

He huffed out a laugh while he stepped from the car and moved to the door. Crossing over into the kitchen, Oliver pushed the handle shut behind him as his eyes searched the room. He found her standing by the sink. Felicity had thrown her keys and bags on the countertop, and she’d switched on the tiny light above the stove. The dim yellow glow hugged the curves of her body as she stood with her back to him in the darkened room.

Oliver clenched his jaw while he stared at her rigid spine. Because he knew that, in a lot of ways, he’d failed today. He’d wanted Felicity to admit that they could still be together when they left Blue, and that they could turn fantasy into reality, and that they could make this relationship work far beyond this mountain. But he’d failed at all of that. Because this stiff, tenacious person in front of him wasn’t going to change her mind. She wasn’t going to admit to anything except the prudent, rational need for them to say goodbye.

Yes, he’d failed in a lot of ways today. But he hadn’t failed at _everything_. Because he now knew for certain that Felicity felt just as strongly about him as he felt about her. He’d seen that at the restaurant. He’d seen every emotion she had for him coursing through her eyes, and he knew she wanted this. He knew she wanted _them_.

But she wouldn’t allow it. Felicity simply refused to take this leap of faith together, and it frustrated the hell out of him. Oliver was just about at the end of his rope, and he knew he only had one more shot at this. He only had one more chance, and it was right here and now.

He stared at Felicity’s back, watching the shallow breaths move through her body as she stood in silence. Her shoulders were tense. Her entire body was tense. Oliver could tell that she was going to put up a fight about the promise she’d made. She was already fighting it.

But this was his last chance. It was _their_ last chance, and he was going to take it.

He closed the distance between them with a few long strides, coming to stand behind her with his chest to her back. He watched her exhale shakily while she gripped onto the countertop. Oliver took a deep breath in and inched closer, filling his lungs with her familiar scent – the one he craved beyond reason. Then he eased his hands to her shoulders, and then down her arms, until he could cover her hands with his own, threading their fingers together against the wood while his body came flush with hers.

Felicity trembled as she cleared her throat to speak. “So, Oliver, we both know this is our last night together.”

“Yes, we both know that,” he agreed against his will, his voice barely above a growl. “And we also both know you made me a promise to spend the night in my arms before you left.”

“You’re right, I did,” she conceded, holding tighter to his fingers. “But I made you another promise, also. I promised to fulfill a fantasy of your choosing, and you never chose one. So I thought we should fulfill that promise, instead. After all, there are so many adventurous sexual things we could try. You could tie me up, if you want to. I still have the rope I borrowed from Pete, and you could…”

Oliver took a step back so he could grab her by the hips and spin her around to face him. The moment she looked up to his eyes, he pressed forward. “We’re not doing that,” he insisted, crowding her against the counter so she couldn’t run. “I want the _other_ promise.”

“But, Oliver…”

“ _No_. I’m staying the night with you, in your bed. You swore that I could have an entire night with you in my arms, and you’ve avoided it over and over again. But we’re out of time now. This is the last chance.”

“But, it’s just – we don’t _have_ to do that. We don’t have to go into the bedroom. We could have sex anywhere you want. The counter. The refrigerator door. The couch. The floor. What about the shower? That would be fun, right? We haven’t ever done that before.”

Oliver forced himself to take a deep breath. “The _bed_ , Felicity. We are going to make love in your bed, and afterward we’ll fall asleep together, and in the morning we’ll wake up in each other’s arms. And _then_ we can say goodbye.”

She shook her head with his words – a silent but firm protest to the promise she’d made him – and it pissed him off even more than he already was. So he reached down, and grabbed her by the ass, and pulled her up off the ground. “Wrap your legs around me,” Oliver commanded when she gasped with the rapid movement.

Felicity complied, but he could see the apprehension in her eyes. Her hands clung to his shoulders while he walked her through the kitchen. Her fingertips trembled against his shirt. It didn’t stop him. Oliver carried her into the hall, their path lit only by the dim moonlight streaming through the cabin windows. He moved them both to her bedroom with purpose and determination. But as he stepped through the entrance to the elusive room, Felicity reached out and grabbed hold of the doorframe above his head, her knuckles whitening with the effort of holding them in place.

“Wait,” she breathed, pinning his eyes with a determined stare. “What about here, in the doorway? I could hang on just like this, and you could do whatever you want to me. Seriously. Anything you want. I promise I won’t move my hands at all. I will keep them above my head the whole time, and…”

Securing her to his chest with one hand, Oliver reached his other hand up to the underside of her arm and tickled her until she laughed and squealed and dropped her fingers back to his shoulders. Then he took the last few strides to her bed and plunged them both onto the mattress. They fell down together, with him on top of her, and he fell instantly in love with the sensation of her on a soft, welcoming bed.

Felicity giggled for one more second. But then she focused in on his eyes and she stopped. She stopped laughing, stopped moving, stopped breathing. She stopped everything and gazed up at him with pleading, desperate eyes.

She obviously didn’t want to be here. But Oliver wanted to be here. He wanted this more than anything. Because her suitcase had been lying right here, just hours before, and he’d been forced to watch as she meticulously organized everything inside of it, and it had killed him to think that she would leave him and not look back.

Oliver knew she was returning to the real world – to the world of Solemnly Sedate Felicity. And he knew she’d tried to keep that side of herself away from him, so he could only see the freebird who came to live for these few weeks at Blue. But Felicity was clearly torn now – torn between what she wanted to do and what she needed to do – and Oliver could see how scared she was. He could see the fear move through her eyes as she lay here beneath him. He watched it, and his chest tightened, and his heart pounded, because he didn’t want her to be frightened. And he certainly didn’t want to be the one to frighten her. So he released a slow exhale, and allowed his shoulders to fall, as he looked down into her sky blue.

“Felicity, I know why you don’t want to be in this bed with me tonight.”

Her brow rose. “You do?”

“I do. It’s because it’s too intimate here. It’s too close to reality, and I know you’ve done your best to keep reality away from both of us while we’ve been up here on this mountain. But I’m not afraid of reality anymore, and that’s because of you. So tonight, I don’t want the fantasies. I don’t want to tie you up, or fuck you on a counter, or push you up against the refrigerator door. I just want to be here in this bed with you. I want to make love to you, like two people who are together in a real world.”

He sighed as he gazed into her. “It took me a while to figure out why you never let me stay the night with you, but I understand now. You’ve been trying to protect both of us, by keeping reality away. You’ve been trying to protect us from the pain we’re going to feel when we have to say goodbye tomorrow. But despite all your efforts, the fact remains that we’re both in this thing too deep. So tomorrow is going to hurt like hell, and there’s nothing you can do now to save us from that.”

Moisture lit the corners of her eyes and Felicity shook her head. “I’m sorry, Oliver. I’m so very, very sorry. I never meant for either of us to have to feel that pain.”

“I appreciate you wanting to protect me from it, baby; I really do. But it’s going to happen, no matter what we do right now. So, what I want is to have you in my arms all night long. I want that more than I can say. But I can’t make you want the same thing. I can’t force you to be here with me, and I won’t try.”

“Wh-what do you mean?”

“I mean that I release you from your promise.”

“You…what?”

“I release you from your promise. You don’t have to spend the night in this bed with me. We can leave here, and have sex anywhere you want. We can go get in the shower right now, if you like. I promise I will be very involved in the act of shower sex, and I promise I will make you come. Multiple times, if that’s what you want.”

Her eyelids fluttered and she shook her head. “Oliver, I don’t want that…well, I mean, I want you to make me come; of course I do. Seriously, who wouldn’t want that? I really would be a mentally unstable person if I said I didn’t want that. And you’re so good at it, by the way. Although I’m sure you know that by now, and…”

“Felicity.”

“Oh. Right. Sorry. I’m…I’m nervous.”

Oliver reached his hand to her face, tracing down the side of her cheek. “I know you are. I am, too.”

Felicity stilled beneath him, pausing to take a breath. “I do want to be here with you, in this bed. I want to make love. I do, but…”

“But what?”

“But it’s not going to change what happens tomorrow.”

The pain of those words stabbed into his heart, and Oliver had to force himself to speak. “I know. But I don’t want to think about tomorrow right now. I just want to be here, with you, tonight. Can you give me that? Can you be here with me tonight?”

She thought about it for a long time. But then she nodded, and the ache in his chest eased a little. “Yes, Oliver, I can. I want to. I want to be here with you so badly. You have no idea.”

A smile pulled at his lips. “I have some idea, Felicity.”

She returned his smile, looking up at him with wide blue eyes and soft pink lips, and Oliver dropped his forehead down to hers, nudging their noses together before stilling himself and taking a moment to just breathe her in. God, this feeling was incredible. Knowing she was here. Knowing she wasn’t going to run away from the bedroom, or push him out of the door at the end of the night. Knowing she wanted to be with him as much as he wanted to be with her. At least for now. But now was all he could think about.

Oliver kept his eyes shut, and his forehead against hers, while he listened to the steadiness of her breathing. And then he felt her hands move to his hair, threading through the thick strands to hold him to her. He wanted to hold onto her too, so he wrapped his arms tighter around her back and allowed them both to sink further into the mattress. He felt her smile against his lips, and the joy of it overwhelmed him, so he pressed his mouth to hers for just a moment. At least, he told himself it would just be a moment. He didn’t want to get too carried away. He didn’t want this to pass too quickly, because he wanted to savor every single minute.

But the second he felt her lips on his, Oliver lost himself to that blissful sensation. Damn, her mouth was perfect. _She_ was perfect. He had to taste her, so he did. He eased his tongue past her lips and relished the smooth wetness awaiting him. Felicity responded immediately, so eager for his touch. Her fingers tightened in his hair while his arms banded more securely around her back, and his muscles nearly shook with the effort of holding her beneath him without crushing her.

She gasped when he finally pulled back for air, and her whole body trembled. Oliver trembled too, and had to shift his hips, because he was already painfully hard and straining against his zipper. His entire being was just utterly and completely intent on this woman beneath him, begging and pleading to be inside her. All he’d done was kiss her a few blissful moments, yet he could barely fight the urge to bury himself in her warmth right this instant and bring them both to completion.  

But he didn’t want it to end. Not yet. And he knew the fact that she was finally under him on the bed was just too damn overwhelming. So he bent down again, and pressed his lips to hers once more, and then tightened his arms around her back so he could roll them both over and put her on top.

The moment Felicity found herself above him, she eased her knees down to the bed. She tucked her thighs close to his hips, adjusting herself over the ridge of his erection. But she didn’t stop kissing him. She wound her tongue with his while she flattened her body onto him, pressing her breasts to his chest as her hips ground down against his stiff length. Their breaths mingled, hot and gasping, while they reveled in the experience of each other, in the wetness of tongues and the pressure of lips and the smoothness of skin.

Oliver held onto her so tight. He banded his arms around her back, spanning the width of her body twice over, just clinging to her. He clung to his beautiful little bird, his frolicking forest fairy, with desperate need. But he also clung to the sober, practical, serious woman who’d spent this last day with him, because he needed her, too. Oliver clung to _his_ Felicity, who was both of these women in one.

Felicity didn’t fight him. At all. She didn’t stop touching him, not for an instant. Her hands roamed across his shoulders and up his neck and into his hair. She cradled his head with her fingertips while she kissed him a hundred different ways – sometimes hard and sometimes gentle, sometimes fiercely and sometimes lovingly. Oliver lost himself to each sensation, so he barely noticed when she started to pull back. But then he felt it – the arching of her body away from his – and his eyes shot open as his hands fell to his sides.

The moment he released her, Felicity backed off of the bed and stood, looking down into his eyes. Panic rose in Oliver’s chest – a sudden, horrid ache – as he thought she might turn to leave. He reacted instantly, sitting bolt upright and grabbing onto her hips to keep her here, with him. But she didn’t try to escape. She only smiled at him, soft and tender, while she reached to the back of her hair to pull the tie from her ponytail.

Oliver remained seated before her as he looked up to her face. The pale moonlight streaming through the window lit Felicity’s body in a dark blue glow, and Oliver watched hungrily while the gold curls fell to her shoulders in loose waves. And all he could think was that he wished he’d been the one to set her hair free.

He pulled her body closer to his, cradling her knees between his thighs, as she dropped the tie to the floor. Then Felicity reached for the hem of her blouse. Oliver covered her hands with his own as she gathered the material in her fingers, and they both raised the shirt together, until he couldn’t reach any further and she finished for them. When she allowed it to fall to the ground, and brought her fingers back down to rest against his shoulders, Oliver sighed with the touch of her skin. Her bare stomach lay in front of his eyes, with it’s soft, perfect curves, and so he pressed his forehead into in, wrapping his arms around her back to bring her even closer.

Felicity ran her hands from his shoulders to his neck and back again, allowing them both time to just be here together. When her fingers smoothed into his hair, Oliver hummed against her skin. She massaged his scalp, and he breathed in, filling his lungs with her fresh soap and tiny flowers. Her bellybutton lay beneath his mouth, and he pressed his lips to the tiny circle, just so he could hear her soft giggles in the cool, dark air.

Her fingers left his hair then, and Oliver looked up to watch as she reached around her back to unclasp her bra. She drew the black lace fabric across her arms before letting it join the other items on the floor. Then she stood before him, still encased within his legs, and smiled down into his eyes.

Oliver stared at her for a long minute, just taking in the sight of her curved pink lips, of the gold curls resting against her shoulders, of the rose peaks of her breasts tightening beneath his heated gaze. As he stared, he ran his hands up her spine and then down again, soaking in every sensation. His hands eventually came to rest at her waist, and then he traced the edge of her pants around to the front. When Oliver felt the button beneath his fingers, he popped it open and curled into the fabric, grasping both her pants and underwear beneath his fingertips. His eyes fell to his hands while he pulled down, easing the soft material down her softer skin, watching raptly and trying to memorize every curve he revealed. When the fabric bunched at her knees, Oliver leaned in to press his mouth to one hip. He kissed across the bone there, tracing the flesh-covered line with his lips and his tongue, feeling her wriggle and quiver against him until she finally burst out giggling and took a step back.

Oliver looked up to her, and Felicity smiled as she brought one hand back to rest against his shoulder, steadying herself while she proceeded to kick off her shoes and then remove the remainder of her pants, one leg at a time. When she finished ridding them of the last of her clothes, she straightened in front of him and met his heated gaze.

She stood a few inches away from him – completely bare and so fucking gorgeous – and all Oliver knew was that there was way too much distance between them. So he stood, keeping her eyes pinned to his as he did, watching her face tilt as she followed his intent gaze up. The moment he’d straightened to his full height, he stepped into her, and took her face in both hands, and lowered his mouth to hers, and kissed the hell out of her. Felicity grabbed hold of his forearms, clamping on to steady herself as his tongue both tantalized and tortured. She clung tighter to him when her legs swayed, and Oliver pulled back just enough to listen to the panting little gasps that left her lips. Her obvious longing for his touch soothed him, and he smiled as he rested their foreheads together.

Felicity continued clinging to his arms for several moments, her breaths moving short and shallow through her chest. When she was able to stand independently again, she eased her hands from his arms to his waist, gathering the hem of his shirt in her trembling fingers. Oliver raised his head, focusing in on the desire and determination in her gaze while she drew the material up his chest. He helped her when she needed him to, helped her pull it over his head quickly, so he wouldn’t miss watching her for even a second.

The instant his shirt joined her clothes on the floor, Felicity’s eager eyes fell to his bare chest, followed quickly by her hands. Oliver reached out, grasping her hips and pulling her closer to him. He grounded her in place, even though he felt quite certain that she wasn’t going anywhere at the moment. Because Felicity looked simply, and beautifully, entranced. She traced each line of muscle across his abdomen with reverence and awe, obviously mesmerized by her ability to touch him. And Oliver allowed his hands to wander from her hips to the curve of her bare bottom, stroking and caressing that supple skin, because he was just as mesmerized by his ability to touch her. She was the soft to his hard, the curves to his lines, and they fit perfectly together. He knew that like he knew his own name.

Felicity sighed while she continued to trace over his stomach and Oliver could feel her desire for him practically pulsing through her skin. He expected her to move her hands down further now, to undo the button of his pants, to continue what they’d started. But she didn’t. Felicity brought her hands up instead, to the top of his chest, roaming and seeking until her fingers finally found their home over his heart. And then she looked to his eyes as her palms flattened onto his heated skin.

Oliver stared down into her sky blue, watching in amazement while the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen in his life spread across her lips, even as her tears welled. He stilled when her fingers curled up against his chest, because it felt like they were trying their damnedest to reach inside. Oliver could only stand and stare while her hand moved slowly and deliberately across his skin, over his ferociously pounding heart.

_Good God, Felicity, just take it. It’s already yours. You may as well just physically remove it and take it home with you._

He dropped his hands to his sides then, his muscles shaking as he stared into her eyes. Felicity’s hands fell also, finally leaving his chest, and Oliver struggled to take a deep breath. Then he watched while she reached for his arm, wrapping her fingers around one of his wrists. She brought his hand up to her chest, and laid his palm over her heart, and pressed it there, holding it against her with trembling fingers.

Oliver swallowed hard with the sight, a lump forming in his throat as she gave him a watery smile just before resting her forehead onto his chest. Both of her hands wrapped around his, securing his fingers in place, as she took a shuddering breath against his skin. Oliver just closed his eyes, and let his face fall into her hair, while he concentrated on the fluttered pulsations of her heart beneath his hand.

He didn’t know how long they stood like that. He only knew that her breathing stayed ragged for a long time while she held him to her, and that he matched each one of her tremulous inhales and exhales with his own. But eventually, she calmed. And when she finally raised her head from his chest, locking her blue eyes onto his, they no longer brimmed with tears.

Felicity released his hand then, and she stepped up into his body, arching up on tiptoes to press her mouth to his. Her lips were smooth and insistent, and Oliver followed her lead. He kissed her with hunger and intention, tasting the warmth of her tongue as she pushed herself against him. Then her fingers moved to his hips, and onto the waistband of his pants. Oliver grabbed her face in both hands, kissing her harder as she popped open the button and pulled down his zipper and reached for him.

Her fingers felt warm and sure when they encircled his erection. Oliver sucked in a breath with the sensation, stilling his mouth against hers while he steadied himself. Felicity stroked him, drawing her hand up and down his shaft as he twitched against her belly. Her bare feet shifted against the floor in time with the motion of her hands, pressing her body rhythmically onto his while he throbbed and pulsed beneath her fingers.

Holy fucking hell, he wanted her. _Want_ didn’t really even begin to describe how he felt. This was a bone-deep ache, a need he could barely comprehend. Oliver needed Felicity with him – surrounding him, accepting him, holding him together. He needed her _now_ , and he was about two seconds away from grabbing her and pushing her up against the wall and burying himself inside her.

But that just wouldn’t do.

Not tonight.

Forcing himself to inhale deeply, Oliver dropped his hands to her shoulders and squeezed, stopping her movements as he looked into down to her face. Felicity met his gaze and Oliver offered her a soft smile before reaching down to remove her hand from around him. He brought that hand up to his mouth and kissed each one of her fingers. Then he released her arms and pressed another kiss to her forehead.

He didn’t want to leave her. Not for a second. But he wanted her in the bed, and they weren’t going to get there this way. So Oliver stepped over to the mattress, and reached down to pull back the covers. Then he smiled again, because the sheets were red, just as he imagined they’d be. They were _Felicity’s_ red, and he would have her inside them now, and he couldn’t imagine anything better.

He turned back, sighing in relief when he saw that she hadn’t moved at all. Oliver returned to his little bird, and banded his arms around her, reaching down with both hands to grab hold of her ass. Oliver lifted her and Felicity wrapped her legs around his waist, pinning his stiff length between their stomachs. He could feel the wet entrance to her sex against his skin, and he groaned as he pressed his mouth to hers. After taking the few steps to the bed with her in his arms, he put one knee on the mattress so he could lower her down gently. Oliver made sure that her head eased down onto a pillow, and that her entire body lay comfortable and cocooned by the soft bedding, before he withdrew his arms. Then he stood up again, to toe off his shoes and finish removing his pants.

Felicity waited patiently for him to finish, even though her fingers dug into the sheets and her feet moved restlessly against the red. Oliver undressed as quickly as he could, but not too quickly, because he liked seeing her there. He liked watching the need and the craving written in each tense muscle of her body as she anticipated him.

Once he finished with his task, he stepped back to the bed and stared down at her. Felicity lay against the mattress, looking up at him under heavy-lidded eyes, with her halo of hair spread out across the pillow and a serene smile gracing her lips. And Oliver’s heart thudded against his ribcage, because he understood then that she was an angel, sent here just for him, even if only for these few days. So if this truly was all the time he had with her, then that would have to be okay. Because he’d at least gotten to have this much.

Felicity reached her arm to him, holding her hand out as she waited for him to join her, and Oliver couldn’t stay away from her any longer. He crawled slowly onto the bed, between her parted legs, until he could lower his body onto hers. He didn’t enter her. Not just yet. First he needed to experience her warmth, to accustom himself to the feel of her naked body beneath his, because he knew the sensation would take his breath away. And it did.

He inhaled swiftly as he came to rest against her, and Felicity sighed the moment his body covered hers. He positioned his hips just a little to the side, so his thick length lay against her thigh. But otherwise he matched her completely, with his chest and his stomach and his legs lining up with hers, and then he eased his forearms onto the mattress beside her shoulders so he could support some of his weight. He didn’t want to crush her. He wanted her to be comfortable, and happy, and at peace. From the look in her eyes, Oliver believed she was all those things, and more.

Felicity reached her hands to his face, smoothing her fingers down his cheeks and across his jaw. She traced the outline of his lips while smiling up into his eyes. “This…this is wonderful,” she whispered.

He nodded in response, because he wasn’t sure he could make his voice work right now, so he didn’t try. Instead, he returned her smile just before bringing his mouth down to hers. Felicity met him eagerly, her lips sealing against his, her hands cradling his face. Oliver threaded his fingers into her hair, wrapping himself in soft gold curls.

The warmth of her skin infused into his as they kissed. Oliver moved his mouth over hers again and again, before trailing his kisses across her cheek and down to her neck. He listened intently as she moaned and whimpered beneath him, the sounds moving through her chest and into his. He tasted the skin over her neck and her jaw, and felt the pulse point of her throat beneath his tongue. Felicity clung to him the entire time, her fingers gripping onto his shoulders while he explored her with his mouth.

Oliver just kept kissing her as she writhed beneath him, her legs spreading wider to settle his hips more firmly against hers. She arched her bared body up onto his as the ridge of his erection throbbed against her inner thigh. Oliver groaned into her skin, because he knew where all this led. And he knew that when he finally entered her, this would be almost over. He didn’t want it to end, but he needed to be inside her. God, he needed inside her so badly.

He worked his kisses slowly back to Felicity’s lips, and pressed his mouth tenderly to hers, before pulling back just enough to look down to her eyes. Her sky blue was glassy with drunk desire and blatant need, but then she blinked a few times, and focused in on him, and smiled. She smiled like she did when they were in the forest together, when she saw the sun shining through the tree leaves, all sparkling silver and gold. It was definitely the smile of his little freebird, the fairy who’d flitted her way into his soul and brought all her light with him. And Oliver wanted to be surrounded by that light now, to feel it shine inside him.

So he held onto her gaze as he straightened his hips, finally aligning them with hers, to run his thick, aching length through the soft folds of her sex. She was so warm, and so wet, and he found the opening to her body instantly. He pressed the tip of his erection inside her, and she grabbed hold of his forearms and held tight, biting into her lip as she groaned. Oliver’s heart pounded against his ribcage while he watched her, and it was all he could do to not plunge himself inside and finish them both. But he wouldn’t do that. He needed to take his time, to love her so thoroughly that she would never forget him. Because Lord knows he could never forget her.

Oliver forced himself to still, even as his erection pulsated, begging for more of her heat. Felicity watched him war with his desires, and she eased her hands to his face, cradling his jaw in her fingers as she rocked her hips up. The motion brought him a little farther inside, coating him in her warmth and her wetness.

Felicity smiled up to him again, and the pure, undiluted emotion in her eyes shined like a beacon. Because Felicity wasn’t holding back right now. She wasn’t concealing anything she felt, and the sight of all the emotion inside her forced the air from his lungs.   He needed to be with her now. Not just with his body, but with his heart and mind and soul – his entire being demanded to be with her at this moment, so Oliver finally allowed himself to sink inside.

Her eyes widened and a moan escaped her throat as they joined, becoming one in an instant. Oliver gasped with the sensation, having trouble reconciling the joy with the pain. Because he’d felt himself entering her body so many times, but it had never been quite like this. So warm and welcoming, like home. Like a home he never thought he deserved.

Felicity held tight to his arms, clinging fiercely to him, pulling him even closer, inviting him in deeper. She gazed up at him with her soft, sweet smile, and Oliver wanted to stare at her forever, and bask in the thought of this perfect world they’d found in each other. Except it wasn’t perfect. Nothing about this was even remotely perfect, because as much as Felicity felt like home to him, Oliver knew this was actually her way of saying goodbye.

He couldn’t bear that thought right now. He couldn’t bear any of it, so he closed his eyes and dropped his forehead to hers. Oliver concentrated on breathing, in and out.

Felicity only held him closer. She circled her arms across his shoulders, and shifted her hips to wrap her legs around his back. He groaned as she curled her hands over his neck and linked her feet together against his low spine. She held him to her with every part of her body, and with all of her heart, and Oliver clenched his jaw as she clung to him without restraint.

_Dear Lord, why does this have to end? Why does this ever, ever have to end? I want her. I want to be with her, every day of the rest of my life._

Oliver raised his head. He raised his head to look into her eyes, and brought his hands up to cradle her face. “I’m going to miss you,” he breathed, his voice broken and shaking. “I’m going to miss you so damn much.”

The tears returned to her eyes. They sprung back up, quick and clear, brimming in the dim light. She didn’t say anything, but a sob choked its way from the back of her throat and she nodded, over and over.  

Oliver closed his eyes again, because it hurt like hell to see her on the verge of tears. He ran his fingers over her cheeks as he pressed his body into hers, and Felicity’s arms curled over his back, her fists balling up against his spine. Then she let out a shuddered exhale, and Oliver felt the moisture against his fingers as tears spilled from her eyes. He didn’t want her to cry, but he couldn’t stop her tears; honestly, he could barely hold back his own. So he did the only thing he could – he pressed his lips to the wetness on her cheeks, tasting the salty sting against his tongue as he whispered her name again and again.

Felicity tried to compose herself. She took deep breaths, and sniffed, and pressed her body closer to his, but Oliver still felt her tremble beneath him. He knew now that he needed to finish this. It was too painful for her; it was too painful for him. He couldn’t stay here, inside her, forever. That just wasn’t possible, and to try would only torture them both.

So he started moving. He eased out of her and then sank back in again, and Felicity rocked against him as she gasped with the sensation. Oliver continued to thrust into her, over and over, while she moaned and panted beneath him, their breaths and tongues mingling as he pressed fevered kissed to her face and her lips. He felt her body encase his, felt the tight, wet smoothness of her sex sheathing him completely, and it felt so incredibly wonderful, and yet as painful as anything he’d ever known. So he squeezed his eyelids shut tighter and drove into her even harder, again and again, determined to finish this for them both.

But then he heard her voice. She whispered, “Oliver,” and he stilled. He ceased all his movements, and raised his head to look into her eyes. Her clouded sky blue gazed up into him and Felicity took a shaky breath in. “Hold my hands. Please.”

Memory after memory instantly accosted him – of all the times in the past two weeks that she’d asked him to hold her hands. Of all the times she’d begged him to touch her, with and without words. So Oliver grabbed hold of both her hands now, one in each of his own, and brought them to rest against the pillow beside her tousled hair. The movement shifted his body down fully onto hers, and Felicity gasped in a breath as she wound their fingers together. And then she sighed, grasping onto his hands while she smiled up at him through her tears. It was a beautiful smile, the perfect smile, and he wanted to see it. So he watched her as he started to move again.

Oliver focused on that smile, and on her eyes, as he rocked himself inside her, slow and steady. He studied every emotion that crossed her face, and witnessed her desire and her need as they built and swelled and burned. The smile eventually fell from her lips, once she began whimpering in time with his thrusts. Oliver felt her inner muscles tighten around him, but he refused to look away from her, and she never looked away from him. She just held onto him, her fingers wound inextricably with his, as their bodies glided together, soft and hard, hot and wet, deep and penetrating and complete.

When she came, her lips parted, and her breath hitched, but she still didn’t look away. Her body shook, trembling and clinging to his as she worked hard to focus on his face. Oliver wanted to watch her forever. He wanted to see this quiver in her lips and that beauty in her eyes for the rest of his life. But his physical needs overruled his wishes, and so he let himself go. He drowned himself the pleasure of her body as he had so many times before, but never quite like this – never with the definitive knowledge that this was the last time. So even as he gave himself over to the ecstasy, even as he rocked and throbbed and poured himself inside her, the pain in his heart became too great and too powerful to be ignored. And he couldn’t fight the tears that fell from his eyes to join the ones streaming down her cheeks.

Felicity blinked as she looked up into him. She whimpered while she watched the tears slide down his face, and arched up from the pillow to press her forehead onto his. “Oliver. _Oliver_.”

“ _Felicity_ ,” he breathed against her skin, holding tight to her hands, gripping her fingers hard inside his own. He brought his lips to hers and kissed her, joining their mouths and tongues while their bodies continued to pulse in time together. They lived out each final second of this moment with their limbs intricately entwined, coming slowly and quietly back down to earth. Felicity stayed with him the entire time, her lips never leaving his, her body wrapped tight around him. And Oliver held onto her for what felt like forever, although he knew it wasn’t, and couldn’t be.

Eventually, he rested his forehead onto her shoulder, and released his grip on her hands, and waited as she extracted her fingers from his to ease them onto his back. He knew her tears had dried, because he could no longer feel that wetness against his skin. He was happy for it, grateful she no longer cried because of him, and dreading the thought of seeing those tears again in the morning.

Oliver stilled against her, hesitant to even twitch a muscle, resistant to the thought that he would ever have to leave. Felicity didn’t attempt to move at all. She just drew her hands up and down his spine, lazily tracing her fingers across his skin. As she soothed him with her touch, she began humming in his ear. Oliver couldn’t quite make out the tune, but it sounded like an old Elvis ballad, something he wasn’t able to place right now. Her voice was soft and sweet and wonderful, and he smiled against her skin. “What are you humming, baby?”

“Was I humming? Oh…I guess I was. I didn’t realize.”

He lifted his head, looking down to her in the pale light. “I like it when you hum. I always love hearing your voice.”

Felicity smiled then, lighting a little spark in her sad eyes. She brought a hand to his face, to smooth her fingers across his jaw. “Should we get under the covers now? I don’t want you to get cold.”

“I’m not cold at all; you keep me so warm. But you’re probably right, we should get under the covers.”

Oliver left her body with great reluctance, moving to her side and sitting up to gather the edge of the covers in his hand. He pulled the sheets and comforter up around them both, encasing them in warmth and softness as he lay back down beside her. Felicity snuggled immediately into his chest, curling up against him as her thighs pressed onto his. Oliver threw one leg over both of hers, and wrapped his arm around her back, and drew her in even further, grateful for the sensation of her warm breath against his neck, and her dainty fingers resting on his chest, and her soft breasts pushed into his skin.

Oliver pressed his face into her hair, filling his senses with the touch and sound and smell of her. He ran his fingers over her body, and listened to the little gasps that left her throat, and breathed in deep, trying to memorize every sensation. He tried to live in the moment alone, and not consider what tomorrow would bring.

Felicity’s hand spread out over his heart once again, and he smiled into the darkness.

“Oliver?”

“Hmm?”

“Will you be okay? I mean, I probably don’t have the right to ask you that, but I just…I need to know. You will be okay, right?”

For a brief moment, Oliver considered saying that he _wouldn’t_ be okay, just to see if that would make her stay. But he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t put that burden on her shoulders when she was trying so hard to do the sensible thing for them both – the goddamn ridiculously sensible, rational, logical thing that obviously devastated her as much as it did him.

“I’ll survive, Felicity. What about you?”

He felt her nod against his shoulder. “I’ll survive, too.”

Oliver ran his hand through her hair, and then down across her back, as he tried to wrap his head around her response. Because he couldn’t imagine his Frolicking Freebird just _surviving_. The woman he’d spent the last two weeks with danced and sang and bounced, and that’s what he wanted for her. He didn’t want her to lose that joy from her life. He didn’t want her to lose the hope in her eyes.

Felicity pressed her lips to his neck for a moment and Oliver shivered. “You know, you never used your fantasy,” she murmured against his skin. “But we do have a little more time together tonight. We could probably still fulfill it, if you want.”

Oliver shook his head, because she obviously had no idea of the fantasy she’d just fulfilled for him. “Thank you for the offer, but I want to remember us just like this.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. Besides, knowing that there is a gorgeous woman somewhere in the world who owes me a fantasy will put a sparkle in my eye everyday. People will always wonder what I’m thinking about. It’ll be worth it.”

Felicity laughed softly, which moved her body against his skin, which made his arms tighten around her of their own volition. As he pulled her closer, she took a deep breath in. “So you think it was worth it, Oliver?”

He froze for a moment, and then sighed into her hair, because he understood everything she was asking. “Yeah, it was worth it.”

“Honestly? Because I know you said the first night we were together that you didn’t have any regrets, but I would understand if you’d changed your mind.”

“I haven’t changed my mind.” Of course he hadn’t. He didn’t regret anything they’d been to each other.

_The only thing I will ever regret is letting you go._

Oliver wanted to tell her that now. He wanted to tell her that the thought of losing her was unfathomable to him, and that he knew she hated the thought of losing him just as much, and that they could find a way to be together, if they just tried hard enough. He wanted to be able to convince her of all of this using elegant, intelligent words – words he knew he wasn’t capable of forming right at the moment.

So when Felicity settled further against his chest, and ran her fingers over his heart, and sighed into his skin, Oliver decided not to say anything. Because she just felt so warm and tranquil and flawless in his arms, and he didn’t want to risk disturbing this perfect peace. He decided to save his speech for tomorrow, for when she woke, soft and snuggly in his arms. He planned to look down into her sleepy eyes the moment she opened them, and assure her that life could always be like this for them. And then try like hell, one last time, to convince her to give them a chance.

“I’m glad you didn’t change your mind, Oliver,” she whispered, her voice already thick with exhaustion.

“Of course I didn’t. I’ll never regret a moment we spent together.”

She smiled against him. “Me, neither. I’ll never regret a moment of us. Never, ever.”

Oliver grinned with the beauty and innocence of her words. And he tried to pull her even closer to him, although she was already completely wrapped in the shelter of his arms. But she didn’t complain at all while he practically smothered her in a full-body embrace. She only smiled more, and snuggled further beneath his arms, and nuzzled her face into his neck.

After several minutes, her breathing evened out and her body relaxed, and Oliver wondered if he would finally get to feel his little fairy asleep in bed with him. It took a few more moments, but eventually he heard what he wanted to hear…he heard her snore. And he smiled again, because her fingers still lay over his heart, even in her sleep.

Oliver leaned in to place a kiss to the top of her head. “Goodnight, baby,” he spoke into her gold curls. And then he closed his eyes, allowing sleep to overcome him as he savored the joy of being wrapped around her.

…

Oliver woke to the feel of warm, bright sunshine against his face. Before he even opened his eyes, he basked in the sensation of the soft sheets beneath him, and in the fluffy comforter on top of him, and in the fact that he was _not_ in his bed. He was in Felicity’s.

With a grin spreading his face, he reached for her. His hand eased to his side, searching for the feel of her body. He searched out her warmth and her softness and her joy, needing to pull her back against him. But all he felt were pillows and sheets and blankets. Nothing else.

Oliver ceased all his movements. He held his breath for a long minute, straining to hear any noises that might come from within the cabin. But everything was silent.

A deep hollowness instantly settled inside his chest, and he didn’t have to open his eyes to prove what he already knew.

His Felicity was gone.

...

A/N:  Hey lovelies!  I'm so sorry for the angst; please don't hurt me ;)  I do promise that this fic has a happy ending.  And there are still 7 chapters to go, so I promise lots of eventual fluff!  I'd love to hear your thoughts, if you have the time :) Tina

Up Next...Chapter 12:  Discoveries


	12. Discoveries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Sweethearts! Thanks so much for coming back to read, and for all the wonderful comments and encouragement from the last chapter. You guys are awesome! :)

Oliver lay in Felicity’s bed, staring up at the ceiling. He could still smell her. Her scent was everywhere – in the sheets, in the air, on his skin. The bed was warm, but not as warm as it would have been with her beside him.

He quieted again, holding his breath as long as he could while straining to hear sounds from the other rooms of her cabin. But of course there weren’t any noises, other than the chirping of birds outside her window. So Oliver closed his eyes, and encouraged himself to breathe, while his heart thudded, heavy and painful, inside his chest.

 _She’s gone_ , he told himself, because he knew he needed to accept it.

He just hadn’t thought he would need to accept it this soon. Because he really thought he would still see her this morning. He believed he would have her in his arms when he woke, and have one last opportunity to convince her to give this relationship a chance to survive in the real world. But instead, she’d gone without even saying goodbye.

Oliver brushed one hand over his face, pressing his fingers into his eyelids. As much as he hated facing this day without her, deep down he knew why Felicity left before he woke. She did it because saying goodbye this morning would have been too damn hard on both of them, and she wanted to save them from any more pain. And Oliver also knew that she didn’t really leave without saying goodbye…because she’d said her goodbyes last night. Maybe not in words, but with her body and with her heart.

“Damn it,” he groaned, wishing he’d had one more opportunity to talk to her. Not that it would have made much of a difference; he would have tried to convince her to give them a chance, and she would have refused. She would have refused with tears in her eyes and a deep, horrible ache in her body that he could feel as surely as he felt the ache in his own. Which left him even more confused, because Oliver knew Felicity’s feelings for him ran just as deep as his for her. So why wouldn’t she even consider a future?

Oliver shook his head as he lay against her sheets. Images of the two of them together last night – wrapped up in each other, clinging to each other, loving each other – accosted him in the most beautiful and painful way. He could still feel her soft skin against his, and taste her salty tears, and hear her voice as she whispered his name with such sadness and longing.

His chest burned with the memories of sights and sounds that were still too real and too raw, and Oliver exhaled sharply as he threw back the covers and sat up at the side of the bed. He knew he couldn’t stay here anymore, even if he couldn’t imagine being anywhere on this mountain without her. So he stared at the log floor for a moment, and at his clothes still strewn on the ground, as he worked up the courage to leave. But when he reached for his shirt, he glanced over to the bed stand and froze. His eyes focused as his body stilled.

A letter lay there. Beside him. A letter in a woman’s distinct handwriting.

Oliver’s eyes scanned to the bottom of the page to see her signature: _Yours, Felicity_.

His pulse raced while he stared at the paper. And then he reached for it, grasping it hard in both hands. He inhaled, and exhaled, and read.

 

_My Dearest Oliver,_

_First and foremost, I must ask you to please forgive me._ _I know I’d promised to stay the entire night with you, and I didn’t. I’m sorry. I just remembered you saying that you couldn’t imagine having to watch me walk away from you, and honestly, I couldn’t bear the thought of having to do it. I know it was cowardice on my part, but I hope you’ll forgive me for wanting to spare us both that pain. I also hope our last memories of each other will be happier this way._

_I must also apologize for writing you a letter. I hesitated to do it, because I know the letter you received back in your high school locker room was something that hurt you deeply, and the last thing I ever want is to hurt you. But I still had things to say, and not enough time to say them, so I decided to put my thoughts down here. I hope you’ll indulge me by reading, and I hope you’ll find a way to see this letter as something positive._

_I never spoke with you again about what happened between you and Carrie all those years ago, because I promised I wouldn’t say anything else while we were together at Blue. But now that I’m leaving, I need to get a few things off my chest and I pray you’ll allow it. The most important thing I have to tell you is that what Carrie did was not your fault, Oliver. I know I said those words before, and I know you heard me. But I wanted you to see them in writing, and I wanted you to understand them without a doubt._

_You were so young when all of that happened. So young, and not yet capable of understanding the effect it had on your mind and on your soul. I understand how your need for control grew from your grief, and honestly, I’m amazed by the positive choices you made because of it. You became a strong, steadfast leader, and I couldn’t be more proud of you for that. But now I hope you’ll see that the control you’ve tried to hold over your life, and everyone else’s, isn’t doing you any favors anymore. The guilt you’ve carried with you since that night in high school has prevented you from experiencing all the miracles this world has to offer, and you deserve so much more than that. You deserve everything. Please know that, Oliver. Please know that you deserve all the love in the world._

_You shared yourself so deeply with me that day in the woods, and I will never forget the trust you placed in me. You also asked me for my forgiveness, and I willingly and absolutely gave it. But my utmost wish for you is that you will allow yourself forgiveness for the events that were not, in any way, within your control. You are such an amazing man, and you have such capacity for laughter and joy and love. You let me see inside your heart while we were up here on this mountain. You let me see the beauty and the light inside you, and that was something I was missing so desperately from my life, and I am so grateful to you for allowing me to see._

_Honestly, I have so many things to thank you for. Most of all, I want to thank you for being here with me. Because I needed you, Oliver. I had no idea, when I found you by the side of the road, just how much I needed you in my life. I couldn’t possibly ever tell you all the ways you helped me, so I won’t try. Just please know that our time together was one of the best experiences of my life. I have never allowed myself the freedom of a relationship like ours before, and I’m so grateful that you were willing to share these days with me, because every moment with you was wondrous and magical and perfect._

_So all I have left to give you now, after my apologies and my gratitude, is hope. My hope for you, my sweetest Oliver, is that you’ll let other people see this man that I’ve seen. I hope you’ll let them see the fun, playful, adventurous spirit inside you – the one that lit up my entire world for these past precious weeks. If you can allow that person to keep living and breathing, then I know you’ll find the life you’re searching for. Because you so deserve to be happy._

_Thank you, again and again, for everything. And until the day you put me from your thoughts, hopefully with a smile, please know that you will never be far from my heart._

_Yours, Felicity_

 

Oliver sat, silent, holding the letter in his hand. He concentrated on breathing for a long minute, and then his eyes returned to the top of the page. His fingers trembled as he read the letter again. And again. And again. Until he knew he’d memorized every word. Then he set the paper down carefully onto the bed beside him.

He stared at the ground, unseeing, just trying to wrap his mind around her words. His fingers fisted into the sheets, remembering having her here with him, in every way, just hours earlier. Those memories still burned against his skin, even more so now than they had before he’d read her final words to him. Because last night, Oliver felt pretty damn sure about how deeply Felicity cared for him, but now he knew for certain: the woman who wrote that letter cared more about his happiness than she did her own.

He still couldn’t comprehend why Felicity refused to admit that they could make each other happy far beyond these mountains, but he did know that this pain in his chest sat heavier with each passing minute. He knew that he had to get out of here, to leave her bed and her cabin, if he was going to have even a remote chance of breathing normally. So Oliver forced a deep inhale, filling his lungs with her lingering scent one last time, as he reached for his clothes. He stood and dressed and then grabbed the letter. Folding the paper up, he shoved it into the pocket of his pants and turned his eyes away from the bed, because it hurt too fucking much to see the mussed sheets and indented mattress. Because he’d worked so hard to be here with her, only to have this be the place where she’d said goodbye.

Oliver stepped out of Felicity’s bedroom, and rushed down the hall and into the living room, determined to escape as quickly as he could. He pushed one foot in front of the other, purposefully and intently, yet when he saw the front door, his footing faltered. He came to a stuttered halt beside the couch, because he couldn’t actually bring himself to leave. Because this was where he’d spent so much of his time with her, and walking out of that door meant leaving all of this behind.

With his hands balled at his sides, Oliver’s eyes turned to the kitchen, his mind filling instantly with images of her naked on the countertop. He remembered the first night he’d sat her up there, and how nervous and sweet and timid she’d been. And he remembered the next time he had her on the counter – soaking wet with smiling lips and fiery eyes – after their kitchen sink water fight. Oliver looked to the living room floor next, savoring the thought of being wrapped around her on the Twister mat, both with clothes and without. Then he glanced to the couch, and could almost feel her asleep in his arms again.

When his gaze eventually drew to the far wall, Oliver sought out the picture of her imaginary bird. He wanted to see the blurry photo again, because he knew how much it meant to her, and he knew it would make him smile. Except the photo wasn’t there. The log wall was empty again, just as it had been the first night he’d come here. Felicity had removed the picture and taken it with her…she’d even taken the nail.

Oliver’s head tilted as his body drew unconsciously toward the empty wall. Staring at the wood surface, he recalled how angry he’d been with his frolicking freebird when he realized she’d nailed a picture to a wall that wasn’t hers. He remembered chastising her for it, and he also remembered how she’d responded by telling him, as they stood before her bird photo, that she would open him up.

Coming to a stop in front of the empty wall, Oliver wished now, with all his heart, that her fantini photograph had been real. He wished Felicity had actually seen that bird, because then maybe she would believe in magic again. Maybe she wouldn’t have made the logical, prudent decision to abandon the feelings that had sprung up so fast and furious between them. Maybe, if the bird she’d created in her mind were real, then Felicity would have believed that these fantastical emotions they shared could still exist in the real world.

Sighing dejectedly with wishes that never came to fruition, Oliver looked over to the knotty pine wall, searching out the hole that his frolicking freebird had hammered into the wood. He didn’t know exactly why he needed to find it, except that he still wanted validation of her existence. He figured he would have a hell of a time seeing one little pit mark in the wildly uneven log surface, but to his surprise, it wasn’t hard to find the hole at all. Because it was wet and sticky.

Oliver’s brow furrowed as he looked at what was obviously wood spackle, smoothed over the tiny divot. He reached out, running his finger over the substance, just to validate what he saw. And then he pulled his hand back, and stared down at the brown paste now on his skin.

_She filled the hole with wood spackle. Where in the hell did she get wood spackle?_

He frowned for a moment, and then considered that Pete could have given it to her. Except that Oliver had spent almost all of the past two days with Felicity, and didn’t think she would have had time to see the little gnome caretaker.

_But if she didn’t get it from Pete, where did she get it?_

Oliver pondered the question for a second, and then shook his head. Because he remembered that moment yesterday in town, when Felicity had shoved her car keys into his hands and abandoned him on the sidewalk, in order to go into the hardware store to use the restroom. And how she’d emerged from that store carrying her ridiculously oversized purse and eager to return to Blue.

_Damn, she certainly went through a lot of trouble to hide her spackle purchase from me._

He wasn’t really sure why she’d gone out of her way to hide it. Except for the fact that Frolicking Freebird Felicity had told him, the night she’d nailed the photo to the wall, that she wouldn’t buy spackle to fill this hole. Apparently, Solemnly Sedate Felicity changed her mind.

Rubbing the brown paste into his fingers, Oliver huffed out a laugh. “She really wrapped things up, didn’t she?” he questioned the cool, empty air.

Solemnly Sedate Felicity had wrapped everything up completely, with a bow. She’d tried to set everything right before she left. She’d worked to fulfill all her promises to him. She’d said her peace about his past with Carrie. She’d told him goodbye, both with her body and with her words. And she’d spackled this wall.

Oliver could see how she’d filled in all the gaps, literally and figuratively, so she could go back to her ordered life and continue on without regret. And he knew she’d tried her best to do right by him in the last few hours before she left. But none of those actions made him hurt any less. Because putting a bow on a turd didn’t change the fact that it was still a turd.

Oliver’s shoulders fell as he turned away from the empty wall, forcing himself back toward the door. His blood pulsed thick through his veins, and the only thing he wanted to do in the whole world right now was to see her. But he couldn’t do that, of course, which made him even more desperate.

_God, I just really need to talk to someone right now. But who?_

Oliver knew the correct answer to this dilemma, of course. He was at a psychiatric retreat, after all, and the appropriate thing would be to go talk to his therapist. But Oliver honestly couldn’t imagine doing that, because he’d never mentioned a word to Dr. Lance about Felicity. Because he’d always felt pretty certain that his by-the-books doctor, who also happened to be Blissful Blue’s Medical Director, wouldn’t approve of two patients having a heated sexual relationship while undergoing therapy.

Oliver felt quite certain that all he would get from talking to Lance about Felicity was a stern, fatherly lecture. And he just couldn’t bear the thought of that right now. Oliver didn’t want a lecture; he wanted to talk to someone who would understand his point of view, and his pain. Which made the decision simple: he needed to talk to Tommy. After all, the man who’d looked like a kicked puppy when Helena left Blue would definitely sympathize with his plight.

When Oliver reached the front door, he grasped the handle firmly, determined to leave without looking back. But he couldn’t quite go through with it, so he allowed himself to take one last glance around Felicity’s cabin. The moment he did, a thousand images – of her smile, and her eyes, and her body, and her skin – accosted him, accompanied by more pain than he was capable of handling at this point in time. So he closed his eyes tight, and pulled open the log door, and stepped out into the cold morning air.

Yanking the door shut behind him, Oliver worked to breathe as he strode off the porch and up her gravel path, all the way to the paved road. Then he turned to the right, across the paved incline toward Tommy’s Cabin 11. He hoped his friend would be home, since it was already late morning and he should most likely be back from the gym, if he’d even gone. But if Tommy wasn’t at his cabin, Oliver would have to find him. Because he needed to talk. He needed an empathetic friend to share in this anguish and ache.

As Oliver tread down Tommy’s driveway, he acknowledged the fact that he was right in the middle of the moment he’d been dreading for so long. Felicity had gone, and she’d torn a fucking hole in his heart, and it hurt like hell, just as he knew it would. The pain in his chest was deep and cutting and raw, but oddly enough, it wasn’t the worst thing Oliver could imagine. Because he hadn’t hurt like this in as long as he could remember, and he realized now that the worst thing was what he’d been doing before coming to Blue: living his life feeling nothing. So now, instead of mourning the existence of these tumultuous emotions, Oliver allowed himself to experience the pain with a reverent appreciation for the depth of feeling Felicity had brought to his life in such a few short days. Because it was beautiful, really…to feel so much, when just two weeks ago he’d felt so little.

A smile pulled at the edges of Oliver’s lips as Tommy’s cabin came into view. Bounding up the porch steps, Oliver knocked on the door and then held his breath while he waited. Rustling sounds came from behind the logs a moment before Tommy opened the door.

“Oliver? Hey, I wasn’t expecting you. When I didn’t see you at the gym this morning, I figured I wouldn’t have the pleasure of your company today.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry I haven’t been around the past couple of days. A lot’s been going on and I was just hoping…well, I was hoping we could talk. If you have the time.”

“Of course I have the time. There’s nothing but time up here, after all. Do you want to come in?”

“That would be great.”

Tommy stepped back, holding the door open to him. “Sorry the place is a bit messy.”

“That’s no problem,” Oliver offered as he walked into Tommy’s living room. But then Oliver had to school his reaction, because the place was a veritable pigsty. Clothes and dishes were strewn all over the furniture and floor, and Oliver hesitated to move because he wasn’t exactly sure where to go.

“Here, let me clear a place for you,” Tommy offered while yanking a couple of shirts from the couch. “Have a seat.”

Oliver did as instructed, easing tentatively onto the couch cushions as he watched his friend clear another spot on the chair. Oliver focused in on Tommy’s face while he worked, just now noticing the dark circles under his eyes and the tension in his shoulders. When Tommy finally took a seat in the chair opposite him, Oliver shook his head. “I apologize for showing up unannounced. And I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but you look like hell, man.”

Tommy rested his arms against his thighs and huffed out a laugh. “Right back at you.”

Oliver couldn’t help cringing with Tommy’s acknowledgement. “So, what’s going on with you? I haven’t seen you this upset since Helena left.”

“Believe it or not, I’m actually not upset, Oliver.”

“You’re not? But then why do you look like you’ve gone ten rounds in a boxing ring?”

Tommy smiled. “I’ll admit that I do feel tossed around a bit, but it’s because I think…I think I’m in love.”

“What? Who are you in love with? Isabel Rochev?”

“ _Isabel_?” Tommy barked. “Hell, no! Good Lord, that woman is a serious ice queen. And I’ve seen my share of ice queens up here, let me tell you. But that woman deserves her own ice castle.”

Oliver couldn’t help chuckling. “Well, if not her, then who?”

“Her name is Laurel. She’s Dr. Lance’s daughter.”

“Dr. Lance’s daughter?” Oliver repeated, his brow arching as he recalled the photograph on his physician’s office desk. “When did you meet her?”

“Yesterday. She’s up here visiting her dad.”

“Wait a minute. Let me get this straight, Tommy. You met this woman yesterday and you think you’re in love with her?”

Tommy shook his head, his eyes downcast. “Look, I know how it sounds. And I know that it’s really the reason I’m here. But I think this could be different. I think I could change. Don’t you think I could change?”

“I’m sorry Tommy, but I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

“I just…you know what? It doesn’t matter. You came here today because something’s bothering you, and all we’ve done is talk about me. So why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind, instead?”

“Right now, you’re what’s on my mind. Please tell me the reason you’re really here.”

Tommy blew out a breath. “It’s because I’m…I’m a sex addict.”

Oliver stilled as he watched his friend’s shoulders fall. “Oh, I see. Since when?”

“Since forever, I guess. At least since I knew what sex was. The therapists say it’s an unhealthy coping mechanism I developed because I suffered childhood trauma. You see, my mom died when I was little. A mugger robbed her and shot her and left her in an alley.”

“God, I’m so sorry.”

“Thanks. I guess it wouldn’t have been the worst thing ever, except that my dad went crazy because of it. I mean, he didn’t run off and join a league of assassins or anything, but he definitely had some processing issues and he never really got over what happened to her. And apparently, I didn’t either. The doctors tell me that I didn’t have the ability to form healthy relationships with women as a child, and that I’ve always missed my mother’s love, so I seek it out in other women. Lots and lots of other women. I don’t know if I buy all of that, but it makes sense, I suppose.”

“So that’s why you stay in therapy? And why you come to Blue so often?”

“Yup. That’s why.”

“Well…I guess it’s good that you’re aware of what’s happening with your life.”

“Oh, you know how it goes. Once upon a time, I would have just been labeled a womanizer, or even a chronic bachelor. But nowadays they diagnose you with a disease and give you therapy for it. And I really do enjoy therapy. I mean, back in my youth, I went from woman to woman with no remorse at all. But since I started counseling, I feel a bit guilty about it. They tell me that’s progress.”

Oliver stared at him with wide eyes. “Um, I’m…I’m glad you’re making progress?”

“Thanks, buddy. I believe I am making progress. Especially since the moment that I fell in love with Laurel. I think maybe she could be the one woman I can finally commit to.”

“You mean Laurel, the woman you met _yesterday_.”

“Yeah, that’s the one,” Tommy said with a sheepish grin. “But I can tell you don’t agree with me. I guess you don’t believe in love at first sight, do you?”

“I, um…” Oliver mumbled, certain that he should impart his friend with a lengthy sermon on the impracticality of such a thought. Two weeks ago, he would have told Tommy he was nuts for even thinking such a thing. But now, Oliver wasn’t sure what to say. “I just…I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Tommy parroted, regarding him from his spot on the chair cushion. “Oh, I see what’s going on here.”

Oliver’s brow arched. “What do you see?”

“I see why you needed to talk today. This is about that woman, isn’t it? The one you’ve been with since you got to Blue. The one you never wanted to kiss-and-tell me about.”

Oliver’s eyes shifted away from his friend, desperate to focus anywhere else. He heaved a sigh, and rubbed his hand across the back of his neck, unable to say a word. Because this suddenly felt like an inquisition.

“So…was it love at first sight, Oliver?”

The memory of Felicity stepping out of the forest that first time – with her rugged hiking boots and her huge camera and her loose gold curls and her delightful smile – entered Oliver’s mind and refused to leave. “No, it’s…it’s not…” he fumbled, fisting his fingers against his thighs as he recalled dropping his wrench with the sound of her unexpected, but enchanting, voice. “It’s not possible to fall in love at first sight.”

“Well, we’re going to have to agree to disagree on that then, because it’s pretty damn obvious to me that you fell in love with her,” Tommy stated. “Maybe not instantly, but over the last two weeks, you did fall in love.”

“No, Tommy. That’s just not possible. Of course I didn’t fall in love. Of course not. I mean…no. Definitely not.”

“Definitely not?”

“Definitely not,” he repeated, the words forcing acid into his throat. “Except, well, except… _definitely_ is such a strong word, isn’t it? It’s a really strong word, and I don’t know if I should use it, because…well, because…maybe.”

Tommy’s gaze didn’t veer from Oliver’s face. “Maybe?”

“Yeah. Maybe.”

“Maybe you fell in love with her?”

Oliver cleared his dry throat. “Maybe. Or…probably.”

“Probably?”

“Probably,” he said, staring at his friend as a smile settled leisurely onto Tommy’s face. Oliver fell silent for a long minute, and then he pinched his fingers over the bridge of his nose and cursed. “Damn it, _yes_. Yes, I fell in love with her, Tommy. I am completely, utterly, madly in love with this woman. You just…you have no idea. I can barely comprehend it myself.”

Tommy chuckled as he settled back into the seat cushions.

Oliver refocused on Tommy’s twinkling eyes. “I’m glad this amuses you.”

“Oh, it does, buddy. To no end. But only because I understand it so well. You don’t have to worry about approval here, you know. You can talk to me about anything.”

It was Oliver’s turn to chuckle. “I must admit, that’s exactly why I came here today. But now I don’t even know what to talk about. This is all just so bizarre.”

“Well then, how about you answer a question for me?”

“Okay.”

Tommy’s eyes pinned his. “What are you still doing here?”

“What…what do you mean?”

“If you love her, and she left, then why the hell are you sitting here, talking to me? Why aren’t you packing your bags right this minute and going to find her?”

Oliver clenched his jaw as his heart sunk into his stomach. “Because she doesn’t want to be found, Tommy.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure.”

Tommy leaned forward in his chair. “No, I’m not asking if you’re _pretty_ sure, Oliver. I’m asking if you are absolutely, positively, one-hundred-percent, there’s-no-way-in-hell-I-could-possibly-be-wrong-about-this, _completely_ _fucking_ _sure_.”

Oliver stopped breathing for a moment while he worked to absorb those words. His mind wandered back to the restaurant yesterday, where he could see the millions of emotions moving over Felicity’s face as she sat across the table from him. His body trembled with the memory of them together in her bed last night, as Felicity embraced him, body and heart and soul. His thoughts reeled as he recalled every word of the letter currently burning a hole in his pocket.

“No,” Oliver admitted finally, his voice thick and raw. “I’m not that sure.”

Tommy nodded slowly. “Then I’ll ask again. What are you doing here, man?”

Oliver ran his hands roughly through his hair. “You don’t understand. I tried. I _really_ tried. We went out on a date yesterday, and I did everything I knew to do. It was romantic and fun and perfect, and if she wanted to still be with me once we got back to the real world, she would have said something last night.”

“So then, I assume you told her.”

“Told her what?”

“How you feel. I mean, yesterday on your date, did you or did you not tell her that you love her?”

Oliver swallowed hard. “Well, no, I didn’t use those exact words, but I’m pretty sure she knows. I mean, I basically told her that she’s the only woman I want, and that I can imagine marrying her, and that I would love to see her pregnant, and then I asked how many kids she wants and…” Oliver’s voice trailed off as his eyes glassed over. His fingers trembled while he replayed those words in his head. “Holy fucking shit, Tommy, I can’t believe I said all that. I probably _terrified_ her. Good Lord, we’ve only known each other for two weeks, and there I was, telling her how I want the rest of our lives to be. No wonder she ran away from me. I probably sounded like a maniac.”

Tommy laughed. “Or maybe you sounded perfectly sane, like a man who finally knows what he wants from life. But either way, she still deserves to hear that you love her. And I think you should go find her and tell her.”

“Why? So I can scare her more? Or have her look at me and tell me that we haven’t known each other long enough to feel that way? She’d be right, you know. It’s only been two weeks since I laid eyes on her. I really don’t have any business talking about being in love.”

“But you _do_ love her, don’t you?”

Oliver stared at his friend for a long minute, and then his shoulders hung as he shook his head. “God, yes. I love her with all my heart and soul.”

Tommy offered Oliver an understanding smile. “Look…I get it, buddy. Believe me, I get it. It’s scary as hell to put yourself out there like that. It feels like you’re walking over a high wire with no safety net. But if she’s the person you want to be with, and you truly believe you can make each other happy, then wouldn’t that be worth the risk?”

“But what if I’m wrong? Because people don’t do that, do they? People don’t fall madly in love with other people in two weeks. And there I sat with her yesterday, and essentially told her that I want us to get married and make babies. She probably thought I’d lost my mind. Because she was being the sensible, practical one. She told me all along that the emotions up here are weird and overpowering and don’t translate into real life. And at first I understood that, and I even agreed with it, but then I stopped caring about all the practicalities because I just wanted to be with her. But she was right, Tommy. People don’t fall madly in love with other people in two weeks.”

“You already said that.”

“What?”

“‘People don’t fall madly in love with other people in two weeks.’ You said that more than once.”

“Yeah. So?”

“So I think you’re trying to talk yourself into it. Because you actually believe that people _can_ fall in love in two weeks. Because that’s what you did.”

A wild laugh escaped Oliver’s throat as a strange combination of giddiness and fear overtook him. “You’re right. I did. And do you want to know the worst part?”

“What’s the worst part?”

“It didn’t even take the whole two weeks. I mean, I’m still not going to say that I believe in love at first sight, but…I know it didn’t take the whole two weeks.”

“Well then, congratulations, Oliver. You’re in love.”

Oliver shook his head as he stared into his friend’s twinkling eyes. “Thanks, Tommy. Even though nothing about this makes any sense.”

“Does it have to? I mean, shit, who ever said love makes sense? I never saw that written anywhere. No therapist ever looked me in the eye and told me that I would know when I was really in love because it would make perfect sense. Maybe it works that way for some people, but…I don’t think love is supposed to make sense. It just _is_.”

Oliver nodded with Tommy’s words, because on one level he understood them. Oliver understood now that he was in love with Felicity. Honestly, he’d known that for a while; he just hadn’t taken the time to label his emotions before now. But on another level, Oliver knew that love wasn’t always the answer to everything, and that chasing Felicity down, and confessing his emotions outright, could do a hell of a lot more harm than good, to both of them.

As his brain waged war with his heart, Oliver forced himself to look his friend in the eye. “You know, I really appreciate you talking to me, but I think I need to go now.”

Tommy’s brow rose. “Are you going to be okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll be okay. Thank you. Thank you for listening, and for the advice.”

“Sure, buddy. Although I’d feel better if you told me you’d think about actually _taking_ my advice.”

“I will think about little else, I imagine,” Oliver admitted as he pushed off the couch.

Tommy smiled and stood, following him to the front door. “Well, good.”

Oliver stepped out onto the front porch and then turned back to shake his friend’s hand.

“Do you think I’ll see you tomorrow?” Tommy asked when he released his grip. “Or do you think you’ll be on your way to find your woman? Because I have to say, as much as I enjoy playing basketball with you, I wouldn’t be overly upset if you didn’t show up.”

“I wish…I wish I could give you an answer to that question, Tommy.”

“You know what? Don’t even try to answer right now. Just know that I plan to be here in my cabin all morning, and if you show up on my doorstep, we’ll go play some hoops. And if you don’t show up, well then…I wish you and your lady the best of luck.”

A tentative smile pulled against Oliver’s lips. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

Oliver nodded as he walked off the stairs and headed up the gravel driveway. He heard Tommy close the door behind him, and the sound made Oliver cringe. Because he was alone again now, alone up on this mountain, and he didn’t want to be. Especially with all the new questions that had come from their conversation.

Should he go find her? Should he go find Felicity right now, and try to convince her to change her mind about them? Should he tell her that he’s madly in love with her, and that he really does want to marry her as soon as humanly possible? And would she scream in horror if he did just that?

God, he probably had terrified her yesterday. He’d smothered her in romance during their date, just as he’d intended, but now Oliver wondered if it had all been too much. He knew that was a distinct possibility, but at the same time, he remembered asking her just a week ago if the attraction between them freaked her out. At that time, Felicity said it didn’t. She said it bothered her when they first met, but that she’d eventually decided to embrace it. She’d decided to embrace all the emotions between them, because she wanted to experience every feeling she could with him. Because she felt alive when she was with him.

 _Alive_.

That’s how Oliver felt now. Love, pain, joy, sorrow, hope, ache: he felt all these things and more, and they allowed him to know, for certain, that he was truly alive. He didn’t think he could have said those words two weeks ago.

“Damn it, Felicity,” he grumbled into the cool air as he shuffled down his driveway. “Why did you leave?”

That was the big question. Oliver had a million questions, but that was the main one. Because despite all his uncertainties, he embraced one reality now, without doubt: he loved her. And if their conversation at dinner yesterday, and their lovemaking last night, and her letter this morning, had shown him anything, it was that she might love him, too.

“Why did you leave?” he asked again, his footsteps slowing as he approached his cabin. He assumed a snail’s pace, because he didn’t want to be alone inside those log walls. He didn’t want to be alone at all right now.

Which made the person who materialized before him a very welcome apparition.

Roy sat on the porch steps of the cabin, huddled up inside his red hoodie, with his food truck parked just a few feet away.

Oliver walked faster, so he could reach the young man. “Hey there, Roy.”

“Hey yourself,” he replied when Oliver came to sit beside him on the log staircase. “I hope you don’t mind me sitting here, waiting for you.”

Oliver rested his forearms onto his thighs. “Hell, no, I don’t mind you being here. Honestly, I’m extremely grateful to see you.”

“Yeah, I thought you might say something like that. It’s always tough when she leaves.”

Glancing over to his right, Oliver absorbed the gloominess of Roy’s features as he stared out into the surrounding trees.   “You’re missing Felicity, too, I take it?”

“I always miss her after she’s gone. It’s just that when she’s here, I feel like…like I have stability. When she’s here, I feel like I have a home.”

“Home,” Oliver considered, running the word repeatedly through his mind as he listened to the background music of the breeze smoothing through the evergreen branches. “I know exactly what you mean, Roy.”

The two men sat in silence for a while, and it was the most peaceful Oliver felt all day. He didn’t like the fact that Roy was in pain also, but at the same time he took solace knowing that the person beside him understood some of what he was going through. Taking a deep breath in, Oliver settled farther down onto the log step, working to clear his mind for these few moments. Then he raised his eyes up to the endless woods that his freebird loved so much. They were beautiful. They were so boundless and so deep and so beautiful, just like her.

“I didn’t know where to bring your breakfast tray,” Roy finally spoke, breaking the stretched silence between them. “I knew she’d left, but I also knew you weren’t here at your cabin, and I wasn’t sure what to do. But I wanted to be certain that you had something to eat, so I just decided to bring your lunch tray here a bit early and wait for you.”

Oliver couldn’t help smiling. “You’re a good man. Thanks for looking out for me.”

“Yeah, sure,” he replied, rubbing his hands together over and over.

“Is something on your mind?” Oliver asked as the boy stared at his fingers.

Roy huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, there is. But it’s kind of personal, and I know you’re a guest here and I’m just a truck driver…”

“You’re not _just_ anything, Roy. You’re a friend. And I value what you think.”

His eyes shifted to Oliver’s for a moment before he nodded. “Thanks.”

“You don’t have to thank me; it’s the truth. So please tell me what’s on your mind.”

“Well, it’s just…” he started, squeezing his fingers as he inhaled. “I don’t know what happened between you and Felicity up here, and I’m not asking you to tell me. I’m actually trying really hard _not_ to imagine it. But you should know that she’s been my friend for years…”

“For years?”

“Yeah. She was here the first day I started work. She was the first person at Blue to throw her arms around me and ask how I was doing after my parents died. She always looks out for me, always talks to me, always listens.”

“She is amazingly wonderful, isn’t she?”

“Yes, she is, and I’ve known her for what feels like forever, so I can honestly tell you that she’s looked happier in the past couple weeks than she ever has before, since the day I met her. And the only difference I can see is you. So, whatever you did to change things for her, I just want to tell you that I appreciate it. Because that woman deserves to be happy, Oliver. And I want to thank you for putting a smile on her face, even if it was only for these few days.”

Oliver blinked against the unexpected moisture brimming in his eyes. He stared at the side of Roy’s face, but he didn’t reply, because he was at a complete loss for words. All he could do was watch while the young man smiled softly to himself before standing.

“Well, that’s really all I had to say, so I’d best be going. I set your lunch on the kitchen counter inside. I hope you don’t mind me letting myself into your cabin, but I wasn’t sure if I’d get to see you and I didn’t want to leave the food out on the porch for too long.”

“Thank you,” Oliver replied when he found his voice. “Not just for lunch, but…for everything.”

“Sure.” Roy stepped off the porch and onto the gravel, moving toward the van. As he reached for the door handle, he turned back. “You know Oliver, you asked me once if romantic relationships ever worked out beyond these mountains, and I told you that they didn’t.”

“Yeah, Roy. I remember that pretty clearly.”

The boy nodded as he looked to the ground. “Well, maybe I was wrong,” he said, pulling his gaze back to Oliver’s. “I mean, I wouldn’t be upset at all if you proved me wrong.”

Oliver smiled with those words. Then he stilled and watched while Roy hopped up into his seat and drove the truck back up the gravel. When the truck disappeared from view, Oliver continued to sit in place. He missed having Roy here beside him. He missed talking to someone who knew his Felicity. He wanted to hear more about how she’d transformed into a happier person in the days she’d been with him.

Oliver may never have entered his lonely cabin again, if it weren’t for the angry grumblings of his empty stomach. But eventually, he forced himself to trudge up his stairs, and pass through the log door, and move to the counter to grab his tray, and then slump onto the couch to eat. The letter in his pocket crinkled as he sat, so he took it out and unfolded it while shoving bites of food into his mouth. Oliver didn’t really taste anything. He just concentrated on the words she’d left him with.

_I’m amazed by the positive choices you made. I couldn’t be more proud of you. You deserve all the love in the world. You let me see the beauty and the light inside you. I am so grateful to you for allowing me to see. I needed you, Oliver. Every moment with you was wondrous and magical and perfect. You will never be far from my heart._

He read his favorite sentences over and over again, studying the strokes of her handwriting, imagining her face as she’d put the words to paper. And while his eyes absorbed the meaning inside the letter, and his mind replayed the words Roy had just said to him, Oliver became certain of an amazingly magnificent thing.

_This woman loves me._

_Felicity is in love with me._

Oliver smiled as he embraced that truth. But the smile fell before he even had the chance to appreciate its feel. Because she’d still left. Which meant that she didn’t know she loved him. Or that she knew, and it still didn’t overcome her reasons for leaving.

Oliver cringed at both thoughts. The first one, he hoped he could fix…if he went to find her, and they just spent some time together in the real world, then maybe she would realize how she felt about him. But if the second thought were true – and Felicity knew exactly how she felt, but still decided that it didn’t matter – then Oliver didn’t know how he could possibly fix that. Because now that he’d acknowledged his emotions and desires and needs, he couldn’t imagine any reason to stay away from her. So he couldn’t understand why she felt the need to stay away from him. Which brought him back to the same damn question.

_Why did you leave, Felicity?_

With his insides churning against his hastily eaten food, Oliver grabbed the letter and jumped up off the couch. Folding the paper back into a neat little rectangle, he shoved it into his pocket and gathered his empty food tray from the table. He walked the tray to the front door, and then stepped outside to set it down.

Another breeze swirled through the trees, feathering cool air across Oliver’s face as he straightened on the log porch. He inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with the crisp smell of pine. Noises rustled around him, and he glanced down to see red and green leaves twirl against his feet. Then Oliver looked back to the tree line, and the smile returned to his face. Because the woods called to him. _Felicity’s_ woods called to him, and that was where he wanted to be.

Oliver took two steps forward before he realized he couldn’t actually go running off into the forest right this minute, because he had somewhere else to go. He was supposed to walk to Cabin 13, and attend his therapy session with Dr. Lance. But even though he knew he should keep up with his therapy, Oliver still couldn’t imagine talking to the stern physician today, since he couldn’t discuss his feelings for a fellow patient with the Medical Director of Blissful Blue. Oliver also knew he couldn’t hide the turmoil he was in right now, and didn’t want to lie to the doctor who’d done nothing but help him. So that only left one option.

Turning on his heels, Oliver strode back into his cabin. He left the door open, because he planned to go right back outside. Moving to the landline phone, he picked up the receiver and dialed Cabin 13, immediately recognizing the cheery voice on the other side.

“Blissful Blue, this is Betsy. How may I help you?”

“Hey, Betsy, it’s Oliver.”

“Oh, hello, dear! How are you?”

“I’m…here. But I won’t be there. Today, I mean. I need to cancel my appointment with Dr. Lance.”

Betsy exhaled in his ear. “But you’re supposed to be here in just a few minutes, Oliver. This is the third day in a row you’ve cancelled therapy, and I’m starting to worry about you. Do you need help? I can send Pete over to your cabin to check on you.”

“No, it’s…I appreciate your concern, but I just need some time to think.”

“Well, I understand that. But I also want to make sure you’re getting all the help you need. Because that’s what we’re here for, you know; that’s the whole purpose of Blissful Blue.”

“I know that, Betsy. Everyone here is pretty damn selfless, and I appreciate everything you do. And I will get more therapy, I promise. Just not today.”

“So, tomorrow then?”

He chuckled at her kind but firm persistence. “Okay, yes. Tomorrow.”

“You’ll be here to see Dr. Lance tomorrow? You swear?”

“I swear. I’ll be there tomorrow.”

“I’m putting you down for an 8 a.m. appointment – bright and early.”

“That’s fine. I’ll be there first thing. Scout’s honor.”

“Were you ever a Scout, Oliver?”

“Well, not technically. But I’d like to think I have an honorary designation at this point.”

“Alright, then, dear. I will take you on your Scout’s honor, and see you tomorrow.”

Oliver smiled at the pride and acceptance in Betsy’s voice, and figured he might still get a Christmas gift this year, if Mrs. Claus had anything to do with it. “See you tomorrow, Betsy.”

“Until then, Oliver.”

“Until then.”

He hung up the phone. And then he turned and rushed through the open door, barely getting it shut before he bounded off the stairs toward the woods behind his cabin. The cool breeze brushed against his skin as he crossed over the tree line and into the welcoming evergreens.

Oliver walked through the forest for hours.

Not because he was lost. On the contrary, he knew exactly where he was.

He thought a lot as he wandered. He thought about Tommy, who didn’t have a mother growing up, and sought out refuge in the arms of woman after woman. He thought about Roy, who’d lost both his parents in a car accident, and yet chose to drive a truck as his occupation. And he thought about his own parents, who’d given him unquestioning, boundless, undeniable love from the moment he’d been born. That was the kind of love Oliver was used to. It was the kind of love he wanted to give.

He knew he’d never been able to give love the way he really wanted to. Not since that one fateful night in high school, so long ago. He’d held onto so much guilt over what happened with Carrie, and had tried to control everyone and everything around him because of that guilt. Yet it was only now, in these past weeks, that he’d come to realize the truth: _he_ was the person preventing his own happiness.

Felicity had forced him to accept that truth. To stare it down, and take it in, and accept it. She’d shown him what he needed to be happy. She’d told him that he deserved happiness, and all the love in the world. And all Oliver wanted now was to give his love – the way he _wanted_ to give it, the way he _believed_ he could give it – to her.  

Not that the thought wasn’t scary. It was terrifying, honestly, to even consider. The emotions themselves didn’t frighten him; knowing that he loved her actually soothed him in a way he hadn’t thought possible. But to chase her down – to find her against her will and then just shout out that he loved her beyond reason – sounded quite unreasonable. He wanted to do it, but at the same time it meant taking the ultimate leap of faith. It meant putting himself out there in a way he’d never done before. It meant throwing away every logical thought, and giving up every bit of control, and putting his life in her hands.

All of that petrified him…and yet, as Oliver walked through her woods now, he still wanted to do it. He wanted to take that risk, and step out onto that high wire, and trust that she would be there to catch him. He would just feel so much better about taking that risk if he knew for sure why she’d left.

Felicity’s red maple tree showed up then, right in front of him. Oliver paused when he saw it, and took a moment to stare at the bright rose and dark crimson leaves interspersed among the branches. Memories of standing here with her, of holding her as she marveled at the tree’s beauty, accosted him and lit his skin on fire. Because he could still feel her body trembling against his as she looked at this tree, and he hated the fact that he’d never discovered what took the color red away from her.

Forcing himself to push past the maple and farther into the woods, Oliver couldn’t help wishing that, at some point during their time together here, Felicity had asked him for his help. He wished she’d confided in him, and told him what she’d needed to feel better, to feel whole. He wished she’d relied on him the way he’d relied on her. But those were all just foolhardy dreams, because Oliver knew, deep down, that they would never have come true.

Felicity would never have asked him for what she needed. She may have embraced being here at Blue, and encouraged him to go to therapy, but Oliver wasn’t sure if she’d ever actually attended therapy herself. All he did know was that she’d spent a great deal time alone and wandering in the woods, and he wondered now if she’d ever really asked anyone for help.

She probably hadn’t. After all, she was brilliant, and probably believed she could do everything on her own. Because that’s what she’d been doing. Felicity had told him just last night that she’d been living her life entirely alone. Since her father passed, and she’d broken off her engagement, and her mother moved away, she’d been by herself. Oliver already knew that loneliness was the reason Frolicking Freebird Felicity had craved his touch so desperately. But now he understood that it was also the reason why Solemnly Sedate Felicity insisted on doing everything on her own. Because she was an intuitive, resourceful genius, and she would figure out a way to exist, in spite of her own weaknesses and needs. She was tougher than she looked, and she would survive.

Oliver came to a stop then.

He stopped because he’d reached his destination. He’d found her oak tree, the one she’d always brought him to. Oliver recognized it so easily, with all its cracks and crevices in the bark. Even the ground looked familiar: the dirt floor he’d laid on with her, time and time again.

He sat on that ground now, easing down in front of the oak’s thick trunk, as he looked up to its broad, towering branches. Oliver wondered if he might catch sight of his forest fairy’s yellow-crowned purple fantini. He wished he could. He wished he could run to Felicity right now, and tell her that the bird wasn’t just in her imagination. And then, in his next breath, he would tell her that she didn’t have to just survive on her own. He would tell her that she could live, truly _live_ , with him.

Oliver sucked in a deep breath, and then released it slowly, as he stared up at the branches of the enormous tree. He watched the sunlight play off the leaves, each one a tiny little world of its own. He watched the gold and silver sparkle all the way down to where he sat, gazing up at the bright blue sky above him.

It was enormous, this world. As enormous as it had ever been. But just now, it didn’t scare him anymore. Just now, Oliver felt at peace in these woods.

The peace settled into his bones, and he lay back on the earth to look higher into the sky. A smile found it’s way to his lips, and then he whispered, “Carrie? Can you hear me?”

The ache Oliver had carried for so long released the moment he said her name, lifting the steel weight that had lay against his chest for so many years.

“I hope you can hear me,” he continued, his voice shaky but clear. “I know I’ve never spoken to you before, not even when you were here. But I hope you’ll listen to me now, because I’ve wanted to talk to you for so long.”

Oliver’s smile fell as he stared into the silver and gold. “I’m sorry,” he said, focusing on the leaves fanning delicately in the breeze. “I’m sorry that I failed you. If I’d known you…if I’d had the chance…I would like to think that I could have changed something for you. I would like to think that I could have shown you all the happiness life has to offer. I would like to think that I could have helped you understand that there was an entire world waiting for you.”

He inhaled deeply, feeling his heart beat soundly against his ribcage as he considered his next words to her. “I don’t know if you’ve been watching me, Carrie. But if you have, then you’ll know that I tried to make my life perfect. I tried to control everything, and make it all perfect, because I thought that would honor your memory. But I realize now that I failed you. I failed us both, because that never should have been my goal. My goal should have been to enjoy my life, to enjoy a _good_ life. I should have embraced every little piece of it – every breath and every emotion, all the laughter and the joy, and even the pain. But instead, I shut all that down and I strove for perfection, and somewhere along the way I lost my appreciation for what makes life so beautiful and so magical.”

Oliver closed his eyes, watching the colors the sunlight created behind his eyelids and hearing the whisper of the breeze running through the trees. “I’ve made so many mistakes, Carrie,” he breathed. “But I’m going to fix them now. I’m going to enjoy this life. I’m going to honor your memory by feeling, by experiencing, by taking chances and loving the chaos they create. It won’t always be easy for me – and I know I can’t change overnight – but I understand now what I need to do.”

Taking a deep breath in, Oliver settled farther into the earth beneath him. “I want you to know that I will never forget you. I will never forget the responsibility you gave me to keep your dreams and your spirit alive. But now, I’m going to take that responsibility into my heart in a new way, and I’m going to allow myself the happiness I believe you would want for me.

“I will climb mountains, and I will play in the forest, and I will love with all of my heart. I promise you. And I hope, somewhere, that you are smiling, Carrie. I hope you are.”

Oliver exhaled slowly. Then he opened his eyes to see the beautiful simplicity of each leaf above his head. And as the cool air brushed over his skin in a soft and gentle caress, he knew Carrie had heard him.

… 

Oliver never ran so fast in his life. Through bramble and underbrush, and around rocks and branches, he focused solely on getting out of the woods. Although he did take the time to leap over a fallen log or two, just to see if he could. He laughed when he landed, unharmed, on the other side.

By the time he emerged from the trees at the back of his cabin, night had fallen. Oliver cursed beneath his breath, because he knew he still had to pack, and to say goodbye to his friends, and as much as he wanted to jump in his car right now and haul ass down this mountain to get to Felicity, he knew he couldn’t leave tonight. Especially since he’d promised Betsy that he would attend therapy in the morning.

As he wound his way from the forest to his porch, Oliver made a mental list of the things he needed to accomplish before he could leave Blue: he needed to pack, to clean up, to have one last session with Dr. Lance, and to go tell Pete that he was checking out early and thank him for all his help. Taking the porch steps two at a time, Oliver entered his cabin with fervor and determination, and immediately saw his dinner tray waiting for him on the kitchen counter – which made him smile, because he knew Roy always took good care of him. And that reminded Oliver of one more thing he had to do before he left.

Stepping down the hall and into his bedroom, he opened the safe in his closet and pulled out his wallet and checkbook. He smiled as he looked at his checkbook, because he remembered bringing it here in case this weird psychiatric retreat didn’t have credit card machines. He hated how close-minded he’d been about this place back then, but he did have to admit that he was happy he’d brought this back-up plan along.

Oliver grabbed the Blissful Blue pen off of his bed stand and wrote out one check. He didn’t fill in a full name, because he didn’t know it entirely, but in the _memo_ section he wrote the address for Queen Consolidated. Then he tore out the check, and set it on his dresser, and smiled.

Next, Oliver grabbed his suitcase. He threw his clothes in hastily, emptying out the drawers he’d organized so neatly two weeks ago. He thought about gathering his toiletries from the bathroom now but decided to wait until morning, because he did intend to take a shower before he left, even though he couldn’t bear to think of wasting any more time in getting to her.

After tidying up the rest of the cabin, Oliver took his dinner tray to the couch and ate. Roy had brought him steak tonight, and it was good. Not as good as it would have been with Felicity’s backside for a plate, but it was well cooked and quite delicious. Oliver couldn’t help remembering how carefully his forest fairy had cut up the last steak he’d eaten, and how fiery she’d looked as she demanded, in her loud voice, that he eat it off of her. Oliver smiled wildly with that image now, because he knew that tomorrow he would once again get to see the fire in her eyes and hear the resonance of her loud voice. He might even get to see her stomp her foot.

_Dear Lord, Felicity is going to be so pissed when I show up on her doorstep._

She was going to be pissed that he’d left Blue early. She was going to pissed that he hadn’t finished his therapy. She was going to be pissed that he’d tracked her down after they’d said goodbye. And she was going to be pissed that he was kissing her senseless…at least at first.

But all of that was going to have to be okay somehow, because he was coming after her no matter what, and they would just have to work through all of her anger issues together.

Oliver was still smiling when he finally finished his meal and set it back on the porch. It wasn’t terribly late, but he decided to go to bed anyway, so he could have a good night’s sleep before his adventure tomorrow. He actually slept quite well, because nothing weighed him down. Because he knew what he wanted out of life, and he knew who he wanted to spend it with, and he didn’t have any doubts.

Oliver woke before the birds even had a chance to start chirping. He showered and dressed and finished packing up his things. Then he took his computer briefcase and luggage out to his Porsche and threw them into the trunk.

As he turned to go back to the cabin, Oliver heard tires coming down the driveway. He smiled while he watched Roy approach.

“Morning, Oliver,” the boy offered, jumping out of his seat to make his way around to the back of the truck.

“Morning, Roy.”

“You’re up early,” he mentioned while bringing Oliver his food.

Oliver took the tray and nodded. “I am up early. I’m actually leaving today.”

Roy’s brow rose. “Leaving? Don’t you have until the end of the week?”

“I do. But I’ve decided to head out early. I’d like to give you something first, though. Can you wait here for a minute?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Oliver walked back into the cabin, set the tray down on the table, and then grabbed the check he’d written. He strode out of the front door with a smile on his face, bouncing down the stairs toward the young man. “I need you to take this,” he explained as he placed the check into Roy’s hand.

“Why are you giving me a check?” Roy questioned before glancing down at the amount. “Holy fuck, Oliver! Why are you giving me a check for _fifty thousand dollars_?”

“Because you need to finish school, Roy, and you can’t do it up here on this mountain. I know this has been a refuge for you, and I know you needed to be here for a time, and I respect that you knew enough to come here to get help. But I think you’re okay now. And I know it’s not up to me to make that decision, but I want you to know that I believe you’re okay now, and I believe that you can leave here and go back to the real world and live your life again.”

Roy’s head shook as he held onto the check.

Oliver glanced down at the young man’s trembling fingers before looking back to his eyes. “This isn’t charity, Roy. It’s an investment. When you’re done with school, I want you to consider coming to work for me at Queen Consolidated. The address is on the check. I know good workers when I see them, and I wouldn’t be a very intelligent businessman if I didn’t try to get them to come work for me. So, will you take the money?”

“I…I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you’ll let me invest in you. And then write your name on that check and cash it. And then go back to school, and come see me when you’re done.”

Roy didn’t say anything for a long minute. But a tear fell out of one of his eyes, and then he nodded. “I will. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Promise you’ll consider coming to work for me?”

“Yes, sir.”

“ _Oliver_ ,” he corrected with a grin. “I’ll always be Oliver to you.”

Roy returned the smile, and then swiped the wetness from his cheek, as he turned back to the truck. He stepped up into the driver’s seat, and started the engine, and then rolled down the window and stuck his head out to meet Oliver’s gaze once again. “Hey, Oliver?”

“Yeah, Roy?”

“You’re going after her, right? I mean, you are going to find Felicity, aren’t you?”

Oliver looked the boy directly in the eyes. “Yes. I’m going to find her.”

Roy nodded. “Good.”

Oliver smiled again as he watched the young man, and hopefully his future employee, drive back down the gravel. Oliver glanced at his watch: 7:30. Stepping back into his cabin, he spent his last few moments eating the breakfast Roy had brought him. Then he walked back outside, and locked the door behind him. Oliver stood on the porch for just one more minute, looking out into the evergreens and filling his lungs with a deep breath of fresh air. Then he walked to his car and got inside.

The hobbled Porsche did just fine as Oliver made his way up the road toward Cabin 13. He had faith that his car would get him all the way back home, and once he arrived in Starling, his first stop would be Queen Consolidated. Not because he was going back to work, but because today was Monday, which meant Curtis would be working in IT, which meant the computer guru could track down Felicity’s address in the blink of an eye. Oliver wasn’t exactly sure what he would say to Curtis in order to avert the suspicion that he was stalking some poor woman, but then again, Oliver knew that he was stalking Felicity – in what he thought of as a pleasant and loving way. Which was probably what most stalkers thought.

“Shit, this is going to be a rough day,” he mumbled to himself as he pulled into the parking lot of Cabin 13. It was going to be a hell of a day, but Oliver would forge through, because he knew she was worth it. And because he knew she would give him a piece of her mind for coming after her, and honestly, a piece of her mind was exactly what he wanted.

“Oliver!” a woman’s voice called to him when he stepped out of his car.

Glancing up to the front door, he smiled up at Mrs. Claus. “Hey, Betsy. I promised I would be here.”

“You did, you did,” she agreed as she held her arm out to him. “Thank you for keeping your promise.”

“Of course,” he said, taking her hand. He glanced to the side of her face as she led him into the building and then through the hallway toward Dr. Lance’s office. “I appreciate how supportive you always are, Betsy.”

“Well, we always try to be supportive, dear. You know you can come here anytime.”

“I do know that, but…I won’t be coming back anymore. At least, not on this visit.”

Betsy’s footsteps halted in front of Lance’s door. “What are you talking about?”

Oliver looked down to her pale eyes. “I’m leaving Blue after my appointment today.”

“But, Oliver…”

He rested his other hand over hers. “I need you to know that I’m okay. I really am. And I’m not running away from anything. I’m actually running _toward_ something. Something I’ve been looking for all my life. And I’m going to be fine. I’m going to be better than fine. So just please know that. And please know how grateful I am for all your help.”

It took a few moments, but Betsy finally smiled as she looked up to his face. “Well, I’m sad to watch you leave so soon, but I can see how sure you are, when I look into your eyes. So I’m glad for you. And I wish you the best of luck.”

“Thank you, Betsy.”

She squeezed his hand before turning away and walking back down the hall. Oliver watched her long red skirt shuffle around her black boots before he looked back to the door in front of him. He knocked, and then waited for the deep voice to say, “Come in.”

Quentin Lance sat behind his stately desk, resting deep inside his leather chair as he looked up to Oliver’s eyes. “It’s good to see you, Oliver. After you cancelled your last three appointments, I’d started to fear that I wouldn’t have the pleasure again.”

“I’m sorry about cancelling.”

“It’s no problem; I’m just glad you’re back. Would you like to have a seat?”

“Sure,” Oliver agreed, settling into the chair opposite the good doctor. “Although I have to tell you that I’m not here for a full session. I actually need to leave as soon as possible.”

“Leave? To go where?”

“Back home.”

Quentin’s brow furrowed while he stared across the desktop. “You’re going home today?”

“Yes. I’m actually just here to say goodbye. And to say thank you for all your help.”

“Well, you’re welcome, of course, Oliver. But you have almost a full week left here at Blue, and I think it would be worthwhile for you to stay, to continue therapy.”

“I understand, Doctor. But I just have things to tend to at home, and they’re things that can’t wait, as far as I’m concerned.”

Lance observed him for a long, loaded minute before shaking his head. “Well, honestly, I’m sorry to hear that. I think you’ve come a long way in just a few sessions, but I don’t think you’re done.”

Oliver smiled to himself, because he knew Felicity would tell him the same thing. “You’re right; I’m not done. I need to keep improving, and I realize that. And I promise that I fully intend to continue therapy when I get back to Starling. My friend John can help me.”

Quentin frowned. “You mean Dr. John Diggle.”

“Yeah, my best friend. I’ve told you about him before.”

“I know you have. And I know John is an excellent physician; he’s actually one of the traveling doctors who comes to Blue from time to time.”

“Yeah, he’s the person who got me to come here.”

“And that’s wonderful, Oliver, but I don’t believe it’s a good idea to continue therapy with someone you’re that close to. I think you should see someone else.”

“Oh,” Oliver considered, knowing the words made perfect sense the moment he heard them. “You’re right, of course; I’ll have to find another therapist when I get home.”

“I could give you a recommendation, if you like,” Lance offered. “It just so happens that one of our other visiting psychiatrists here at Blue actually lives in Starling, too, and she’s an excellent therapist.”

“Well then, that sounds perfect. What’s her name?”

“Dr. Smoak.”

Oliver froze in place, staring at the man before him as all the air sucked out of the room. “I’m…I’m sorry. What did you say?”

“Her name is Felicity Smoak. Dr. Felicity Smoak.”

...

A/N:  So...I do believe many of you saw that coming :)  I would love to hear what you think, as always!  Also, I apologize for Felicity not being physically in this chapter; I do promise that she will be in the next one.  And please come say "hi" to me on Tumblr anytime - I'm TinaDay3W on there, too.  :) Tina

Up next...Chapter 13:  Oliver


	13. Oliver

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Happy Leap Day!! I want to thank everyone for the awesome responses to the little cliffhanger I left you with...that was my attempt at a twist :) I also loved reading all of your theories and questions; I really hope this chapter will start to answer things in a way you'll enjoy :)

Oliver balled his fists as he sat in Dr. Lance’s office, staring at the man across the desk. The words still hung in the air, attached to the doctor’s lips in a little cartoon balloon: _Her name is Felicity Smoak. Dr. Felicity Smoak._

“I’m sorry, it’s…did you just…could you repeat that one more time?”

Lance’s brow rose. “Felicity Smoak. She’s one of the visiting physicians who travel to Blue to treat patients. She’s actually a colleague of your friend, John. They both work in Starling, although not in the same practice.”

“Felicity is John’s colleague.”

“Yes. Occasionally, they both work here at the same time.”

Oliver couldn’t feel his fingers. “Felicity and John work here together.”

Quentin tilted his head, regarding Oliver from across the desk. “That’s right.”

“And she’s a _doctor_ ,” Oliver continued, struggling to make the word stick in his brain.

“Yes, she’s a doctor,” Lance verified, leaning forward in his chair and pinning Oliver’s eyes. “Have you already met Dr. Smoak?”

Oliver straightened, bracing his spine against the back of his chair the moment he witnessed the doctor’s intense stare. Oliver knew that look. It was the same one he used to get from his football coach in high school, when he’d been out partying the night before and came to morning practice bleary-eyed and unprepared. Oliver wasn’t exactly sure what was happening right at this moment, but he did know that the look in Lance’s eyes wasn’t a good one.

Forcing himself to release his balled-up hands, Oliver took a deep breath and fixed the doctor’s severe gaze with his own. “Yes, I’ve met Felicity. She lives in Starling City.”

“So you met her in Starling?”

“I’ve met her,” he verified, trying to keep to the truth, although not the entire truth, as he watched Lance’s eagle eyes regarding him.

The doctor didn’t say anything for a long moment while he studied Oliver from across the wood desktop. Then he glanced down to Oliver’s hands, and back to his eyes, before finally resettling into his chair. “Well, if you already know Dr. Smoak, I suppose you shouldn’t continue your therapy at home with her, either. We’ll have to find another psychiatrist for you to see.”

“Yes, that’s…I’ll do that,” Oliver replied, standing swiftly from his seat. “I’ll talk to John when I get home and I’ll find someone to see. But right now, I really need to go.”

Lance stood also, and held his hand out. “I’m sorry to see you leave so soon.”

Oliver shook the proffered hand briefly before turning toward the door. “Thank you again for all your help, Dr. Lance.”

“Of course.”

Oliver couldn’t get out of that office fast enough. He didn’t look around him as he hurried down the hallway and out the front door of Cabin 13. He just needed to get outside. He just needed air.

A cool breeze hit his face the moment he stepped onto the porch, and Oliver struggled to take it into his lungs. He moved toward his Porsche, stepping onto the gravel driveway and listening to the tiny rocks crunch beneath his shoes. And then he paced, back and forth, in front of his car door.

“My God, she’s a doctor,” he mumbled beneath his breath. “Felicity is a _doctor_ here.”

It was all suddenly so obvious: the way she spoke to him, the way she looked inside him, the way she opened him up. She was a doctor here, and he was a patient. Except…was she really a doctor when she was with him? Felicity always told him she was on vacation at Blue. Was that true? It felt true. It always felt true, because Felicity had been vulnerable with him. So vulnerable. And Oliver didn’t think a doctor would treat a patient the way she treated him. God, at least he _hoped_ a doctor wouldn’t do that. Unless maybe they were a sex therapist.

Oliver’s footsteps ceased immediately and he sucked in a deep breath. “Good Lord, is she a sex therapist?”

The moment he asked himself the question, Oliver replied with a huffed laugh. “ _No_ ,” he insisted, because he knew his Felicity. The woman he’d been with these past weeks was a sexual innocent. She’d been exploring her own needs and desires while she was with him. She was not a sex professional, by any means. And he loved that about her.

But, if she wasn’t a sex therapist, then what the hell happened between the two of them?

“Damn it, damn it, damn it,” he grumbled, feeling like a fool for not figuring out the truth about her. He should have seen it. He should have known. But it honestly never even crossed his mind that she could be a doctor here.

Oliver ran both hands through his hair, exhaling harshly while his mind burned and his stomach twisted. He needed to talk to someone about her. Someone who knew her. Someone who knew them both.

 _Roy_.

Roy knew what had happened between them up here on this mountain. And Roy knew Felicity. He’d known her for years.

“Well, shit,” Oliver spit out. “Roy has known her for years. Which means he knew she was a doctor, and he never told me the truth, either. Goddamn it! Does everyone know she’s a doctor except me?”

 _Yes_.

That was the answer to that question. Everyone knew but him, and Oliver honestly didn’t understand how Felicity had managed to keep it a secret the entire time, but she had. She’d lied to him from the moment she met him. From the very first moment, right up until the last.

The tender ache in Oliver’s chest hardened then, stiffening his muscles and leveling his thoughts. He’d been too stunned to be angry before, but now he felt it: the surge of heat in his veins, the raw pain of betrayal building in his bones. Felicity never told him the truth. She’d had so many opportunities…so many. But she’d never told him the truth. And then she just _left_.

Oliver needed the truth now. He needed _someone_ to tell it to him straight. And he could only think of one person who would do that.

Jamming the key into his car door, Oliver jumped into his driver’s seat, started up the Porsche, and peeled out of Cabin 13’s driveway. The trip to Cabin 11 was quick, and Oliver made it down the gravel path to Tommy’s porch in the blink of an eye. He leapt out of the car and onto the wood staircase in an instant, prepared to slam his fist into the log door until his friend answered.

But then he stopped. Oliver paused before Tommy’s door and stilled, working to take a breath. Because something was wrong here. Something was wrong about all of this. Oliver knew it the moment Lance stared him down across his desk.

Oliver remembered, just now, the day he’d watched Tommy leave Felicity’s driveway. He’d been so upset to see another man coming from her cabin, and Oliver went to her at that moment, full of possessive jealousy. But Felicity simply explained to him that Tommy had only needed a friendly ear. And she also said Tommy shouldn’t have been there. She said Tommy wasn’t supposed to see her. Which didn’t make any sense, if Felicity was a doctor and Tommy was a patient. She was _supposed_ to see patients, right? Wasn’t that what doctors did?

Oliver’s brow furrowed as he stared at the logs in front of him, trying to reconcile _one_ of the million questions running around in his brain. He didn’t know much of anything at the moment, but he did know – even with as angry as he was at her – that he didn’t want to hurt her. Because she’d helped him. Despite all her lies, Felicity had helped him, and he didn’t want to repay her by creating more problems in her life.

So Oliver remained standing on Tommy’s porch, sucking in big, calming breaths, trying to mask his frustration and anger as best he could. He stayed there for several more minutes, until he thought he might be able to have a rational conversation with another human being without turning into The Hulk. Then he raised his hand to knock once. Or twice.

Fumbling sounds originated from inside the cabin before the door finally cracked. “Oliver?” Tommy questioned, peeling his eyes open while straightening his shirt.

“Did I wake you?”

“Maybe a little.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry it’s so early. I just…I really need to talk.”

“Oh, yeah, sure. Come on in.”

Oliver stepped over the threshold as soon as his friend stepped back. He worked not to trample on any of the debris littered about the floor while Tommy closed the door behind him. Settling himself purposefully into the small cleared spot on the couch that he’d occupied yesterday, Oliver waited for Tommy to slump into the cushion of the chair across from him.

“So, Oliver, not that I’m not happy to see you,” Tommy offered as he swiped his hands across his eyes, “but I have to admit, there was a part of me that hoped you wouldn’t be here this morning. I hoped you would have taken my advice, and decided to chase after your lady love.”

“I listened to your advice, Tommy. I’ve thought about it constantly; I swear I have. I just…” His words trailed off as he shook his head. “I actually came here today because I need to ask you a few things about one of the doctors who works up here.”

“Yeah? Which one?”

“Dr. Felicity Smoak.”

Tommy’s brow rose. “How do you know about her?”

“Well, I just…I had a therapy session with Dr. Lance this morning, and I told him that I plan to head back to Starling City today. Lance recommended Dr. Smoak as a physician I could continue my therapy with at home.”

A grin lit Tommy’s face. “So you _are_ leaving today?”

“That was the plan.”

His smile fell. “You mean it’s not the plan anymore?”

Oliver grimaced. “I don’t know. It’s just…Lance thinks I should keep up with my therapy when I get back, so I need some information on Dr. Smoak before I go.”

“Well, yeah, keeping up with therapy is a good idea, isn’t it? Therapy is always a good idea. And Dr. Smoak is the best. A real professional.”

“A real professional? So I take it you’ve been treated by her before?”

“Oh, yes, whenever I get the chance,” Tommy confirmed, settling farther back into the seat cushions. “Unfortunately, I live in New York and she lives in Starling, so I can’t see her regularly. But I do go to her whenever I come to Blissful Blue; I’ve always enjoyed sessions with her. I remember when she first started working here, right out of her doctor-residency-thing. She was a live-in physician at Blue for almost a year before she moved away to do private practice. It didn’t take her long to build up a following, even as young as she was. Dr. Smoak has this uncanny ability to see through bullshit – to see people for who they really are.”

Oliver wanted to laugh out loud with that statement. But he held it in, trying not to reveal any connection to her. Because he just didn’t know how to handle all of this yet.

“So now I actually schedule my visits to coincide with hers whenever possible,” Tommy added. “Although I like to stay up here a bit longer than the standard three weeks, for extra relaxation time. And, you know, extra time with the ladies.”

Oliver watched Tommy waggle his eyebrows, and attempted to return his friend’s smile. “Just out of curiosity, Tommy, why do you schedule your visits to coincide with hers?”

“Because Dr. Smoak specializes in addictive personalities. Of course, she can handle anything, but addiction is her focus field. So I fit right into her wheelhouse, so to speak.”

“Then I guess you saw her while she was here this time? As I understand it, she’s been at Blue for the past three weeks.”

Tommy’s mouth pulled down at the edges. “No, I didn’t get to see her. I mean, I did that first week, but everything changed after the lecture.”

“What lecture?”

“Do you remember when I saw you at the gym for the first time, Oliver? You asked me what I’d found that was missing from my life, and I told you I’d found appreciation?”

“Yeah, I remember.”

“Well, that came from her lecture. All the patients here had gathered to hear Dr. Smoak speak at the end of her first week, and she gave an amazing talk about appreciating the beauty of life around us – about appreciating all the little things. It was such a wonderful and inspiring speech, and we were all so excited by it, but then at the end of the lecture she announced that she wasn’t going to see any more patients while she was up here this visit.”

Oliver’s heart stopped. “Why not?”

“Because she was taking a vacation.”

“A vacation?”

“Yeah. Strangest thing, really. I’ve never known a doctor to take a vacation here, among the patients. But she let us know, as soon as she finished her talk, that she wouldn’t be seeing any of us until the next time she came back to Blue. Dr. Lance was there, too – at her lecture. He confirmed that no one would be able to have any sessions with her for the remainder of the time she was here.”

All the air rushed from Oliver’s lungs. “So she’s been on vacation for the past two weeks.”

Tommy nodded. “It really pissed me off, if I’m being honest. I mean, when you travel all this way to see a specific doctor, you should be able to see them.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s…yeah.”

“But I can see her point of view, I suppose. Everyone needs a vacation, right? Although I never really thought of her as needing one.”

“Why wouldn’t you think she needed one?”

“Because she’s so straight-laced and organized. She’s just one of those people who obviously has her life in perfect order, you know? I guess that’s why patients like me flock to her. We all have these messy, needy, addictive personalities, and she’s this pillar of order and professionalism. Honestly, I’ve always aspired to be just like her.”

Oliver’s brow furrowed as he stared the words out of Tommy’s mouth. Straight-laced and organized? A life in perfect order? The pillar of order and professionalism? No. _No_. That wasn’t his freebird.

“I was actually really surprised to hear Dr. Smoak give a lecture on appreciating life,” Tommy continued, cutting into Oliver’s muddled thoughts. “That speech just wasn’t what I would expect from her. She’s always been a positive person, but normally she’s so reserved.”

“Reserved?”

“Yeah. I’d even go so far as to call her anal-retentive. I mean, you should have seen her cutting up her steak.”

“What are you talking about?”

Tommy chuckled. “Oh, it was really something. I went to see her about a week ago, even though I wasn’t supposed to. Do you remember how messed up I was after Helena left?”

“I do remember.”

“Yeah, well, I really needed someone to talk to. I mean, don’t get me wrong, it was nice talking to you. But I needed a professional to speak to, so I went to Dr. Smoak’s cabin, because I’d figured out which one was hers, by process of elimination. It felt kind of naughty, honestly – going to see her when I knew I wasn’t supposed to. I liked it.”

Oliver stiffened with Tommy’s insinuation. “And what happened when you arrived?”

“Oh, she told me I wasn’t supposed to be there. She said it would be unethical for her to treat me while she was on vacation. But I begged her. I begged her to listen to me. So she did. She gave me a few minutes of her time, just to get the load off of my back, and I appreciated her doing it. But the entire time I spoke to her, she was busily cutting up this filet mignon into teeny, tiny pieces. That steak looked so delicious, it had my mouth watering. I would have just dug in, but she was meticulously dissecting it, pulling out only the best morsels and putting them on another plate. So weird. I’ve never met anyone that anal before.”

Oliver held his breath as he listened, remembering how fantastic that steak tasted when he licked it off of her bare backside. “So Dr. Smoak listened to you, and helped you, even though she wasn’t supposed to?”

“Yeah. She couldn’t resist, of course; she has that need to help people. It’s a marvelous thing – how some doctors have that urge, no matter what. She listened to me go on and on about Helena, and she gave me her sound advice, as always. Of course, I don’t ever take that advice. Maybe if I saw _her_ all the time, even when I’m not here, I’d learn to fix myself. But my therapist back home isn’t all that good. Great legs, though.”

“Wait…who?”

“Who what?”

“Who has great legs?”

“Oh. My therapist back home. She’s hot. Don’t get me wrong, Dr. Smoak has awesome legs herself; it’s just too bad they’re connected to such a frigid body, if you know what I mean.”

Oliver fisted his hands against his thighs. “Frigid body?”

“Yeah, man,” Tommy acknowledged with a solemn nod. “Believe me, I’ve tried to unfreeze that ice. But it’s like she never even notices me flirting with her.”

“You… _flirt_ with her?” Oliver growled, ignoring the pain of his own fingernails digging into his palms.

“Well, sure. I’ve tried to come on to her plenty of times.”

Oliver’s entire body bristled, his shoulders bunching up to his ears. He couldn’t stand the thought of Tommy touching her. He couldn’t stand the thought of any man touching her. Ever.

“I used to tell her all about my sexual encounters with other women,” Tommy continued, paying no attention to the rage swelling inside the man on the couch. “I would go into a _lot_ of detail, to see if I could get a reaction out of her. I just wanted to see her eyes widen, or a blush on her cheeks – _anything_. But she never changed her expression, not once, while I confessed my sins. And I know she treats a lot of sex addicts, so I know she hears crap like that all the time, but I really thought my _very intimate_ descriptions would be enough to rattle her.”

Oliver nearly bit through his tongue.

Tommy sighed. “But there was nothing. No reaction from her whatsoever. Hell, you think Isabel is an ice queen? She’s got nothing on that cold-ass doctor. I honestly don’t know if Dr. Smoak has ever even been with a man. I think what she really needs is a good lay…”

“Damn it, Tommy, STOP! Stop _fucking_ talking about her like that or I swear to God I will beat the living shit out of you!”

Tommy’s mouth fell open. His brow shot into his hairline as he straightened in his seat. “Oh…kay,” he offered, holding his hands up in surrender.

Oliver attempted to reign himself in. “I’m…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have threatened you. I just…I can’t even…”

Tommy stared at him, his eyes widening farther and farther while the silence stretched out between them. And then he made a choking sound in the back of his throat, just before he croaked out, “Oh. My. God. It’s _her_ , isn’t it? The woman you’re in love with. It’s Dr. Smoak. Isn’t it?”

Oliver shifted against the couch cushions before looking Tommy in the eye. “Yeah, it’s her. It’s Felicity.”

“She’s the woman you’ve been with for the past two weeks?”

“Yes.”

Tommy’s head shook. Almost imperceptibly at first. But then harder and harder. “Fuck me. That’s…that’s not good, Oliver. That’s actually really, _really_ bad. Shit. Oh, _shit_. Please tell me you didn’t say anything to him.”

“Who?”

“Lance!” Tommy stood from his chair to pace the cluttered floor. “Holy fuck, please tell me you didn’t say anything to Lance about it! I can’t lose her, Oliver! None of us can!”

“What – what are you saying? Are you saying Lance would fire her if he knew?”

Tommy stopped walking to stare down at him. “You don’t understand. I don’t think he would just fire her. I think he would bring her up on medical malpractice charges, and I think he would make sure she never worked as a physician again, _anywhere_. And I can’t even begin tell you how many people that would hurt. We rely on her, man. We _all_ rely on her.”

Oliver’s stomach sank as he watched the panic move across Tommy’s face. He remembered, so clearly, the day Roy hugged Felicity right in front of him, crying in her arms. “I didn’t say anything to Lance. I don’t want to hurt her. I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“Oh, thank God,” Tommy breathed, collapsing back into his chair. “But I just don’t…I don’t understand how it happened. I know you haven’t been in therapy before, Oliver, but sexual relationships between doctors and patients are so forbidden, it’s beyond words. It’s what always made it so fun for me to try to rattle her, because deep down I knew she’d never accept my advances. And now I just…I can’t comprehend what would make her cross that line. The Dr. Smoak I know would never break the rules like that. She would never do anything to jeopardize her job, or her patients. She…”

“I wasn’t her patient, Tommy! She was _on vacation_!” Oliver yelled, finding it difficult to control anything, including the volume of his voice. He squeezed his fingernails harder into his palms as he attempted to form rational words. “Felicity wasn’t working as a doctor for the past two weeks. She was on vacation, just like you said. Lance _knew_ she was on vacation.”

Tommy held up his hands once again. “Okay, Oliver. Okay. I see where you’re coming from, man. I really do. But I have to tell you, I don’t think it would matter to Lance if she was on vacation or not. You were still a patient, and that man is strictly by-the-book. And Felicity, she’s normally just so perfect. So straight and narrow. I just…I don’t understand. What in the hell would make her do something this reckless?”

Oliver stared at Tommy for a few seconds while he considered the question. But he didn’t have to think very long. Because he already knew the answer.

_It was because I needed her._

_And because she needed me._

Oliver’s hands shook fiercely, and he clasped them together to try to control it. God, everything was spinning. The entire room was spinning; his entire world was spinning. And all he wanted was to see her, to touch her, to hold her. He needed to look into her sky blue eyes, and watch her smile at him, and feel the gentle, soothing softness of her skin. That would calm him. That would set his world right again.

Oliver shifted against the couch cushions, hating the fact that he was still on this fucking mountain. “I…I can’t stay here anymore,” he mumbled. Then he looked to his friend. “I have to find her, Tommy. I have to see her now, today. Do you have the address to her office?”

“Yeah, yeah, I have it,” Tommy said, rising from the chair to grab his wallet off of the kitchen counter. He shuffled through several items before pulling out a business card and turning back.

Oliver stood, reaching his hand out.

Tommy started to give him the card, but he stopped. He hesitated as he stared into Oliver’s eyes. Then he shook his head. “Wait a minute. You’re so angry, Oliver. I’ve never seen you like this before, not even when you first came to Blue. I want to know why.”

Oliver’s breath hissed through his teeth. “ _Tommy_ …”

He pulled the card back. “Why?”

“ _Give me the goddamn card, Tommy_.”

“ _Why are you so angry, Oliver?_ ”

Oliver’s jaw clenched hard before the words burst out. “Because she didn’t tell me! Two weeks we were together! In _every_ way! But she never fucking told me she was a doctor! And I think I had the right to know!”

Tommy’s entire body stiffened. “Oh. I see. Well, _damn_. That is…that is bad.”

Oliver huffed. “Yeah.”

“You know, maybe…maybe I shouldn’t give you her address. Seeing her right now might not be the best thing for you. Maybe you need to take some time to calm yourself down.”

“I don’t need time. And if you don’t give me the address, I’ll find it myself.”

“Oliver, why don’t you just…”

“Give me her card. _Please_ ,” he growled.

Tommy straightened his spine and puffed out his chest. He looked Oliver squarely in the eye. “I’m not giving you this until you swear to me that you won’t hurt her.”

“ _What?_ ”

“I want you to say the words, Oliver! I want you to _swear_ that you won’t hurt her!”

Oliver observed Tommy’s brave front for a long minute. And he knew this man in front of him – who’d said such crass things about a cold-ass doctor just moments ago – would fight like hell right now in order to defend her honor. Oliver blinked a few times as he held Tommy’s determined gaze, and then he heaved out a sigh and finally allowed his shoulders to fall. “I’m not going to hurt her, Tommy. I’m in love with her. I’m madly, ridiculously in love with her, and you know that. And yes, I’m pretty pissed off right now, but that doesn’t change how I feel about her. I swear to you, I don’t want to hurt her in any way, shape, or form. I just need to see her again. I just need her. So please help me. Please.”

Tommy watched Oliver carefully throughout his speech. He studied him harshly and intently. And then he shook his head. “God, you really are in love with her, aren’t you?”

Oliver exhaled. “Yes.”

“Okay, then,” Tommy agreed, settling himself as he handed over the card with a firm nod. “I want you to know that, as far as I’m concerned, none of this ever happened, Oliver. I won’t mention a word of it. To anyone. Ever. So, if that woman loves you as much as you love her, and you find a way to make things work, then just know that I won’t tell Lance, or anyone else, what happened between you two up here at Blue. That secret will go with me to my grave.”

Oliver’s eyes widened as he stared at Tommy. “Thank you,” he whispered, taking the business card in one hand and reaching out to shake his friend’s hand with the other. “Seriously. Thank you.”

Tommy clasped his hand with a firm grip. “Of course.”

“I’m sorry I yelled, Tommy.”

“Don’t worry about it, buddy; you’ve had a lot to deal with today. I wish you the best, you know. I want you to be happy. And I would love to see Felicity happy.”

Oliver smiled for the first time in what felt like forever. “I want that, too.”

Tommy returned his smile, releasing Oliver’s hand in order to pat his shoulder.

Oliver took that moment to glance down at the business card he now held. He read the header: _Dr. Felicity Smoak, Starling Psychiatric Associates_. He glanced at her phone number. Then he looked at the address. He read it once. And then again. And again. As he read, his jaw came unhinged. And he could barely get his next words out. “Is…is this her…her _office_?”

“Yeah, that’s her office. I mean, I’ve never been there, but that’s the address.”

“Good Lord, Tommy. This building is across the street from Queen Consolidated. I can see this building from _my_ office.”

“Well, good. You won’t have far to go, then.”

Oliver stared at his friend, trying to accept those words. But then he shook his head, because he knew they weren’t true. Because Felicity obviously knew he was the CEO of Queen Consolidated, which meant she was well aware of the fact that they would be right across the street from each other when they returned to the real world, and yet she’d still left without telling him the truth. Which meant he actually had a long, long way to go…if he was ever going to change her mind about them.

“Thanks again, Tommy,” he offered while turning to walk out. “I’ll never forget this; you’ve been a real friend to me when I needed one.”

“You’ve done the same for me, Oliver. Maybe I can look you up, if Merlyn Global decides to open up that Starling City branch?”

“Yes. Please do.”

When they reached the front door, Tommy grinned. “Also, I promise I won’t ever flirt with your woman again.”

Oliver bristled instantly, then forced himself to breathe. “That’s probably for the best.”

“I think so,” Tommy agreed with a chuckle.

Working to smile, Oliver stepped out onto the front porch. He looked back to Tommy just once after he got into his Porsche, returning Tommy’s wave while he watched his friend shut the door to his cabin. Then Oliver sat, stiff and still, for a long moment in the driver’s seat. He sat and stared at Felicity’s business card.

 _Dr. Felicity Smoak._ The woman who’d opened him up, and turned his entire world upside down. The woman who’d been on vacation, and never told him she was a doctor. The woman who’d apparently risked losing her entire livelihood in order to help him. The woman who might actually think of him as her patient.

Oliver shook his head while staring down at her name in bold print. He glanced again at the contact information, his fingers twitching as he memorized the phone number. Then Oliver leaned over to reach into the glove compartment and grab his cell phone. The device had been long drained of battery, never having gone this length of time without being used, and he plugged it into his car charger. Setting Felicity’s business card down in the seat beside him, he started the engine and pulled back out onto the main road.

He needed to see her now. He needed to get to her. And he honestly didn’t know what he was going to say to her, or what she might say to him. He only knew that he had to leave here to find her, so he could look in her eyes again – so he could look into her eyes while she finally told him the truth.

He just had one more stop to make first.

Oliver passed by the entrance to Felicity’s Cabin 10, and his own Cabin 9, as he made his way off the mountain. The information cabin eventually showed up on his right. He glanced at the worn wooden entry marker – _Welcome to Blissful Blue Retreat_ – just before pulling into a parking space and killing the engine.

Jumping out of his seat and walking to the front door, Oliver stepped into the pine-and-cinnamon scented great room of the large log structure. The fireplace still glowed steadily, just like it did the first day he’d arrived. And the little gnome still sat behind the desk, with deer antlers perched on the wall above his head.

Pete Jackson: the caretaker of Blue, who also knew that Felicity was a doctor. Because everyone knew she was a doctor. Everyone but him. And that thought made Oliver angry all over again, because it felt like everyone and everything at Blue had kept secrets from him. It felt like the trees themselves had purposefully withheld vital information.

“Well, hello there, Oliver. Good to see you.”

“Pete,” he acknowledged, clipping the name as he moved up to stand before the oak desk.

“What brings you by?”

“I’m leaving today. I’m here to check out.”

Pete raised one bushy white eyebrow. “You’re checking out? That’s surprising. Don’t you have another week here?”

Oliver stared down at the gnome. “Yes, I do. And don’t pretend you don’t know that I’m checking out, because I’m sure Betsy already told you.”

Pete stilled for a long while, observing Oliver with a keen eye, before bringing his hands up to rest on top of the desk. “That’s true, Oliver. Betsy did call to let me know. But only because she was concerned about you.”

“Well, I just wish everyone would stop _lying_ to me in the name of _concern_ ,” Oliver huffed, shuffling his feet against the log floor.

“Seems to me like you’ve got a lot on your mind,” Pete noted in his languid drawl. “Maybe leaving here isn’t the best thing for you.”

“No. I have to get out of here. I have to head back home. I have to see her, and…”

Pete looked up at him as Oliver let the words fall off. “Who do you have to see?”

Oliver clamped his lips together, staring down to the ground before meeting the little gnome’s bright blue eyes once again. “God, you’re right, Pete. I do have a lot on my mind.”

“You want to talk about it?”

“I do,” he admitted, inhaling deeply before addressing the man again. “I do want to talk to you, but I just need to know something first: I need to know that you’ll keep whatever I say in strict confidence. You have to do that anyway, right? Because I’m a guest here?”

Pete smiled gently. “Yes, Oliver. But I would keep it in confidence anyway, even if you weren’t a guest. I can promise you that.”

“Then I just want to know…I want to know what you can tell me about Dr. Smoak.”

“Felicity?” Pete asked, his gravelly voice hanging on the name. “Well, she’s…she’s wonderful. One of the best physicians who ever comes up here.”

“And what is she like? I mean, how would you describe her personality?”

“Hmm. I guess I would say that she’s soft. Soft and lovely. And kind. So kind.”

“Soft and kind? Not uptight and straight-laced and cold?”

“ _Cold?_ Goodness, no. Felicity is a sweetheart.   She’s like a daughter to me, to tell you the truth. To me and Betsy both. We just love her.”

“You love her.”

“Yeah, we both do. She’s very easy to love.”

Those words struck him deep inside, and Oliver closed his eyes to take in a breath. When he reopened them, he focused on the older man again. “Can I ask you another question, Pete?”

“Sure.”

“Several days ago, did Felicity ask you for a rope?”

The caretaker quieted for a long minute, and then he nodded. “Seeing as you already seem to know the answer to that, Oliver, I’ll admit that she did.”

“And you just gave it to her. You just gave her a rope.”

“Of course I gave it to her; she said she needed it.”

“Did you ask _why_ she needed it?”

“I did. She said it was for a trust-building exercise.”

“You mean, with a patient?”

“I assumed so.”

Oliver’s stomach lurched.

_Good God, Felicity doesn’t really think of me as her patient, does she?_

“No, Pete. _No_. She wasn’t seeing patients at that point. She was on vacation.”

“Yeah, she was on vacation. But it didn’t surprise me that she was still trying to help someone, even if she wasn’t getting paid for it.”

Oliver huffed out a laugh. “So you gave her a rope? Up here, on a nearly deserted mountain full of psychiatric patients? You gave her a _rope_ , just because she asked for it?”

“I did.”

“Did you also give her a hammer and nail to hang a picture up on the wall of her cabin?”

“I sure did.”

“And if she asked for a shotgun and a chainsaw, would you have given her those, too?”

Pete chuckled as he looked up to Oliver’s eyes. “Yes, I would have. Because I trust her. I trust her with my life. Honestly, I would trust Felicity Smoak with anyone’s life.”

Oliver stared the man down, just waiting. Waiting for Pete to ask him why he had so many questions about Dr. Smoak. Waiting to be grilled by the caretaker as to how he knew about the rope and the picture on the wall. But the little gnome just sat there, looking back at him, saying nothing.

Oliver exhaled. “Aren’t you going to ask me how I know so much about Felicity?”

Pete shook his head. “Nope.”

“Why not?”

“Because you said you wanted to talk in confidence, and I figure the less I know, the more confidential this can be. Because I don’t ever intend to utter a word about this conversation. Not to anyone.”

Oliver continued to stare at the caretaker for another minute. He stared in wonder, his mind working to grasp all the scraps of information that slammed into his brain from moment to moment. As he stood, he absorbed the even, easy temperament of the man before him. The older man’s calmness permeated the air, and Oliver hung his head and nodded. “Thank you, Pete. I should…I should get going now.”

“I really am sorry to see you go. I hope you found what you were looking for here.”

Clenching his teeth, Oliver concentrated on breathing, in and out. He concentrated on quieting himself. But then Pete’s voice broke the silence.

“I remember, you know. I remember how everything felt, the first time I came to Blue as a patient.”

Oliver raised his head. “You…you were a patient here?”

“Yeah. I used to have a job in the city, just like you. I was the CFO of a big financial institution. I spent too much time at the office, and not enough time with the people who matter, and eventually I lost my marriage because of it. And then my daughter got sick. She got really sick with cancer, and she died at the age of 32. When I lost her, I lost myself. That’s when I came here for the first time. And then I came back again, and again, until I decided to stay.”

Oliver exhaled shakily. “I’m so sorry about your daughter.”

“Thank you. It’s been a few years, and I still miss her, but everything heals with time.”

 _Everything heals with time_. Oliver knew those words. Felicity had said those exact words to him. She’d said so many things to him in the past two weeks – so many beautiful, wonderful things – and he wanted to hear them again. He wanted to hear her voice, to hear the ringing of her laughter and the tenderness of her whispers. He _needed_ to hear her again.

“I’m glad you found what you were looking for here,” Oliver offered as he refocused on the man behind the counter. “And just so you know, I did, too. I found what I was looking for.”

The caretaker smiled up at him. “Good, Oliver. Now hold onto it with both hands and don’t let go.”

Oliver returned the smile. “Thanks, Pete. I will. But for now, I need to say goodbye.”

“Goodbye, Oliver. Take care of yourself. And be sure to take care of the people you love, too.”

Oliver swallowed hard with those words. Then he nodded and turned, leaving the warmth of the welcome cabin. As he walked away, Pete’s words roiled in his brain.

 _Take care of the people you love_.

Oliver wanted to do that. He wanted to take care of her. But would she let him? Would she let him take care of _her_ now, after she’d been taking care of him since the moment they met?

Felicity told Pete that she needed the rope for a trust-building exercise. With a patient. And then she’d used that rope with him.

_Good Lord, was I her patient? Is that really how she saw me? Was that all there was between us?_

_No_. Hell, no. Oliver knew that wasn’t true. What they had was so much more than that.

_But is that the reason she ran?   Because she thought of me as a patient?_

Oliver thought of himself as a patient too, but not _her_ patient. He always thought they were both patients here. He always believed they’d _both_ come to Blue for help.

“Damn it,” he cursed for what felt like the thousandth time today.

Cold air hit him in the face while he stepped off of Pete’s porch, and then the sound of tires on gravel grabbed his attention. Oliver’s head shot up as he watched the Blissful Blue food truck pull into the parking space next to his Porsche.

“Hey,” Roy greeted when he dropped out of the driver’s seat.

Oliver stopped moving to pin his eyes on the young man.

Roy approached him openly, his footsteps easy as he carried a folded piece of paper toward the welcome cabin. “Are you heading back home now, Oliver?”

He didn’t answer the question. He just continued to glare. Eventually, the glare made Roy stop in his tracks, and made the smile fall from his face.

Roy pinched his lips together when he arrived in front of Oliver. “What’s wrong?”

“You knew, Roy. Didn’t you? You knew Felicity was a doctor.”

The young man stiffened his legs, and then nodded slowly. “Yes, I knew.”

“And you knew she was keeping it a secret from me.”

“I did. She told me she didn’t want you to know.”

“Did you her ask why?”

“No.”

“Why not? Why didn’t you question her?”

Roy squared his shoulders. “I didn’t question her because I trust her, Oliver. And because that woman has a gift. There are a lot of doctors in this world, but a few of them – just a few – have a way with people that defies explanation. Felicity is like that. And she helped me, from the moment I met her. I never paid her; I couldn’t have afforded her. But she helped me anyway, because that’s who she is and what she does. So I am certain – _absolutely_ certain – that whatever her reasons were for not telling you the truth, they must have been some pretty damn good reasons.”

Oliver stilled against the gravel, trying to wrap his mind around Roy’s words. Then he glanced down to the paper in the young man’s hand. “What is that? Is that a letter?”

Roy nodded. “It’s my letter of resignation, actually. I was just coming to give it to Pete. But maybe…maybe I shouldn’t. In case you want your check back.”

“Why would I want my check back?”

“Because I didn’t tell you about her.”

Oliver huffed out a laugh. “I’m not going to punish you for being loyal to a friend, Roy. Only an asshole would do that. And I’m not an asshole.”

A grin pulled up the side of Roy’s mouth. “I know you’re not.”

Oliver returned the smile before exhaling. “Go turn in your resignation. And cash the check. I have to leave now, but I still hope I’ll see you when you finish school.”

“You will. I promise you will.”

“Good,” Oliver replied, reaching out to squeeze Roy’s shoulder before moving to his car.

“Are you still going after her?” Roy called from behind him.

Oliver’s fingers fisted around his keys. Then he turned back to look the young man in the eye. “Yes, I’m still going after her.”

“Well then…do you think you could promise me something?”

“What’s that?”

“Will you listen to her?   Will you listen to whatever she has to say about all this?”

Oliver could feel the anxiety emanating from the boy’s body. “Of course, Roy,” he assured. “I fully intend to listen to her.”

“That’s…that’s wonderful. It’s really wonderful, but…”

“But what?”

“I just think it might be an uphill battle, to change her mind. She has quite a mind.”

“Believe me, I know that. And I already knew it was going to be an uphill battle. It’s just going to be a steeper incline than I originally thought.”

“Well, I want you to know that I’m still rooting for you,” Roy offered with a youthful grin. “I mean, I don’t have pom-poms with me or anything, but if I did, I would shake them.”

Oliver chuckled. “I appreciate the thought. Now stop talking to me and go talk to Pete. You have things to do.”

“I’m going right now. Good luck, Oliver.”

“Thanks, Roy. Good luck to you, too,” he replied, returning the smile as he fell into the seat of his Porsche and started the engine.

…

The journey back down the mountain was bumpy. Because of the spare tire. And because of his turbulent thoughts.

Oliver just couldn’t reconcile all of the information he’d gathered about his Felicity. The questionable part wasn’t the fact that she was a doctor; he’d actually grown quite accustomed to that truth already, probably because it made perfect sense. No, the part of this that Oliver couldn’t wrap his mind around was how Tommy and Pete and Roy saw her.

Felicity was a different person to each of these men. To Roy she was home, a representation of the stability he’d lost. To Pete she was a daughter, the fulfillment of a missing piece of his heart. And to Tommy she was order and perfection, a goal to strive toward in his unorganized, unbalanced life. Apparently, Dr. Smoak became whoever her patients needed her to be, fulfilling a different role for each of them.

Which left Oliver to wonder if she’d become the person _he_ needed, when he needed her.

If that was what had actually happened between them, then it would be horrible. Both for her and for him. Because she would have just been an actress playing a part, and he would never have known the real her.

Except Oliver didn’t believe that was what happened between them at all. Because he honestly believed he’d seen her. He’d _seen_ Felicity. He’d watched her struggle, nearly every day, with the two sides of herself: the frolicking freebird versus the solemn doctor. He’d actually been front and center – the only member of the audience witnessing that battle.

Oliver understood now that Felicity might have started out their relationship thinking she would be his doctor, whether he wanted that or not. And maybe she’d started out as an actress in a role, playing her little mind games and telling him her far-fetched lies, in order to get him to open up to her. But Oliver also knew – from the night when she’d promised not to tell him any _more_ lies – that Felicity became herself with him. She let him see her struggles. She allowed herself to be truly vulnerable. And she let herself feel for him. She let herself fall in love with him, even though she probably felt she shouldn’t have.

But no matter how their time at Blue started, or how it ended, Oliver believed in that truth: he believed she’d fallen in love with him. Just like he’d fallen in love with her. They’d seen and embraced the most real versions of each other, and that wasn’t anything he felt the need to be ashamed of, or to hide. On the contrary, he believed a truth like that needed to be shouted from the rooftops, and treasured for the gift it was.

Oliver smiled then. He smiled even through his uncertainty and his pain. Because he knew this was going to be an uphill battle with her, but he was perfectly willing to fight it. And he was determined to win.

…

He wanted to drive straight back to Starling. He wanted to drive straight to her office, and barge his way in, and tell her that he knew she was a doctor, and that he didn’t care about the fact that she hadn’t told him, and that he wanted them to live happily ever after from this moment forward. But Oliver knew he wasn’t going to get what he wanted. First, because the wobbly spare tire barely made it down the mountainside and into the parking lot of the car mechanic of Bottom-of-Blissful-Blue town. And second, because he _did_ care about the fact that she hadn’t told him she was a doctor. He needed her explanations, and he needed them today. Because he actually did want them to live happily ever after.

The moment Oliver parked the Porsche in front of the auto shop’s entrance, he jumped out of his seat and went in to speak to the mechanic in charge. He offered a ridiculous amount of money to have his car fixed immediately, and the grizzled-and-somewhat-greasy man was more than happy to oblige him. Oliver grabbed his cell phone and Felicity’s business card from the front seat, and stepped around to the side of the building while Earl pulled the Porsche into the repair bay.

Oliver paced back and forth for a long time beside the store’s white painted bricks, holding her card in his hand and staring at the phone number he already knew by heart. Eventually, he forced himself to stop moving and stand still in the deserted gravel side alley. _Breathe_ , he encouraged, gulping in a huge inhale before releasing the air slowly from his lungs.

Then Oliver turned on his cell phone and dialed the number to Felicity’s office.

After several rings, a woman’s stern voice came across the line. “Starling Psychiatric Associates, how may I direct your call?”

Oliver cleared his throat. “I need to make an appointment.”

“Certainly, sir. Do you know which doctor you would like to see?”

“Dr. Felicity Smoak.”

“Of course. I’ll direct you to her assistant. One moment please.”

He heard a few seconds of music – an instrumental version of an old Rolling Stones song – before a different voice addressed him. “Hello, this is Marie. How may I help you today?”

This woman sounded older, and soft and pleasant, and Oliver smiled to himself. “Hello, Marie. I need to make an appointment to see Dr. Smoak.”

“Alright, I can certainly help you with that. Can I have your name please?”

“Yeah, sure, it’s um…” His voice trailed off as he looked up to the tree line in the distance. “Forest. Jonas Forest.”

“Okay, Mr. Forest. I assume you’re new to Dr. Smoak’s practice?”

“Yes, I am. Is that a problem?”

“No, that will be fine,” Marie replied, becoming silent for a moment as Oliver heard her punching computer keys in the background. “Alright, then, Mr. Forest. Dr. Smoak’s next appointment is in nine weeks.”

“ _Nine weeks_?”

“Yes. She recently returned from vacation and her schedule is especially heavy.”

He shook his head. “No, Marie. I…I need to see her sooner than that.”

“Well, if you’re flexible with your physician choice, I could redirect you to Dr. Asa.”

“Who?”

“Dr. Asa. He’s one of Dr. Smoak’s partners. I assure you he is very good, and should have an opening sooner.”

“No, that won’t do. I need to see _Dr._ _Smoak_ as soon as possible.”

“Well, I wish I could assist you, but…”

“ _Marie_ ,” Oliver growled as panic set into his chest. “You don’t understand. It has to be Dr. Smoak.”

“I’m sorry, but that just isn’t possible right now.”

Oliver closed his eyes. _God, please forgive me for what I’m about to do._

“I really need your help here, Marie. If I don’t see Dr. Smoak today, I think something bad will happen.”

He heard the woman suck in a sharp breath. “Mr. Forest, if you’re having thoughts of hurting yourself, I implore you to please go to the nearest hospital, or call 911.”

Fisting the business card in his hand, he sighed. “I have no plans to hurt myself. I just…I _have_ to see her today. Please. _Please_.”

After a long pause, Marie’s voice returned, soft and calm. “Can you hold on for one minute, Mr. Forest? I need to see what I can do for you.”

“Yes, that’s fine. I’ll wait. Thank you.”

The elevator music returned to his ear, and Oliver resumed pacing beside the white bricks. When the woman finally returned to the line, he held his breath to listen.

“Alright, Mr. Forest, Dr. Smoak says she’ll be able to work you in at the end of her sessions today. Can you be here at 5:30?”

“Yes, I…yes. Thank you, Marie.”

“Will you be alright until then?”

“Yeah, I’ll be okay. I promise. And thank you again.”

“Of course. We’ll see you at 5:30, Mr. Forest.”

Marie hung up her phone, and Oliver stood still for a long moment, listening to the silence on the other end. He couldn’t believe what he’d just done, what he’d said, in order to see Felicity. But then again, he _could_ believe it. Because desperate times called for desperate measures, and he’d never felt more desperate in his life. He couldn’t really justify what he’d done, but he wasn’t going to apologize for it. Because the simple fact was that he finally knew what he wanted, and what he needed, and he would do anything to attain it.

Oliver rested his eyes shut, leaning back against the cool bricks on the side of the building. Time passed while a thousand memories swirled through his brain, from the first moment he saw her until the last. Oliver could recall, so easily, the sound of Felicity’s voice the very first time they met, when he’d been changing his blown tire by the side of the road and she’d told him about this mechanic at the bottom of the mountain. That moment felt like a lifetime ago. Because it was. They’d spent a lifetime together in the past two weeks, and Oliver refused to let go of it. He refused to let go of _them_.

He knew the road to her was going to be uphill. He knew he was going to have to fight to change her mind about them. But he would. He _would_ change her mind. Because they had so much to look forward to, together. They were going to have so many, many more dates, talking and laughing and strolling through town hand in hand. They were going to spend endless nights making love, and experience a million mornings waking lazily in each other’s arms. They would have family dinners, both with his parents and her mother, and double date with other couples, like the Diggles.

Oliver stilled against the bricks.

 _Digg_.

“Digg,” he repeated aloud, smiling as he pictured the man he loved like a brother.

Oliver couldn’t wait until he and Felicity could have their first dinner with John and Lyla. That would be so perfect, especially since John and Felicity already knew each other. Anticipation built in his chest as Oliver imagined introducing his girlfriend Felicity to Digg, and then watching the happiness on his friend’s face when he realized he already knew the woman Oliver was in love with. Because Digg already knew Felicity. He’d known her for years.

Oliver mulled over that last thought, running the words through his mind again and again. _Digg knows Felicity. He’s known her for years._

His brow furrowed then, as a new concern popped into his brain. Digg probably knew Felicity was at Blue these past weeks. They were colleagues back in Starling, and had worked at Blue together, so Digg should know when Felicity was here. Shouldn’t he? And if he knew Felicity would be here when Oliver was here, then was that on purpose? Did John _intend_ for them to meet? Dear Lord, was this all some sort of elaborate matchmaking scheme?

“No, Oliver, that’s…that’s ridiculous,” he insisted, grasping his phone hard in one hand as he looked back to the forest. “John wouldn’t do that. He’s a by-the-book physician too, just like Lance. He wouldn’t encourage a relationship between a doctor and a patient.”

_Would he?_

Oliver started dialing Digg’s cell number before he had the chance to think it through.

The phone rang twice before Digg answered. “Oliver? Is that you?”

He couldn’t help smiling at the sound of his friend’s voice. “Yeah, it’s me. Man, it’s great to hear you. Is this a good time to talk? I didn’t interrupt your work, did I?”

“It’s okay; I’m between patients right now. And I’m happy you called, although I didn’t think I’d hear from you for another week. I know cell phones don’t work at Blissful Blue.”

“Yeah, well…I’m not at Blue anymore.”

“What do you mean you’re not at Blue?”

“I left, Digg. I’m coming home early.”

A chuckle came from the other end of the line. “Damn it, man. You couldn’t do it, could you? You couldn’t let go, even for three measly weeks.”

“No. No, that’s not true. I _did_ let go. I can’t even tell you how much I let go. That’s not what this is about at all. I just…I met someone up here who changed my whole damn life, Digg, and I’m coming home because I’m ready to live that life now.”

Digg fell silent for a long moment before exhaling. “Well, Oliver, that’s wonderful. It’s really quick, I’m thinking, but it’s wonderful. So, can I ask who changed your life?”

“Her name is Felicity.”

“Do you mean Dr. Smoak? She was up there with you?”

“Yeah, she was. I take it you didn’t know?”

“No, I didn’t.”

Oliver held tighter to the phone. “Really? Do you _swear_ to me that you didn’t know she was here?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He swallowed hard. “Nothing. It’s just…she told me you two knew each other.”

“Yeah, I know her. She and I work at Blue together sometimes, and occasionally we see each other here in Starling.”

“But you didn’t know she would be at Blue while I was?”

“No, Oliver, we’re just colleagues; I don’t keep track of her schedule. But it sounds like I should be happy she was there, if she helped you so much. Did you take some of her lectures?”

Oliver laughed _. I took every single one of her lectures._ “Yeah, you could say that. Listen, Digg, do you think I could see you sometime? Maybe in the next few days?”

“Sure, anytime. You know where I live.”

“I do. Thank you…for everything. I’ll let you get back to work now.”

“Alright, Oliver. Take of yourself.”

“You too.”

Oliver exhaled as he hung up the phone, working to absorb all the facts he’d gathered since this morning. He stared out into the woods, into the tree line he’d emerged from so recently. As angry as he’d been just a few hours ago, thinking that the trees themselves had withheld vital information from him, now Oliver looked at the woods and saw a place of solace. And even possibly a place of destiny. He’d never believed much in Fate, but he had to wonder now – just like he had the first day he’d arrived at Blue – if this forest had been trying to tell him something when it sent a squirrel out of the underbrush to leap in front of his car.

“Mr. Queen?” a gruff voice called from around the corner.

Oliver stepped away from the side of the building, making his way back to the entrance. “Yes, Earl?”

The mechanic looked him in the eye and smiled. “I think everything is good for travel down the mountain now. You’re all set to go back home.”

Oliver nodded as he returned the smile. “Thanks. I’m sure you’re right.”

…

The trip back to Starling took several hours. Oliver stopped only once, to pick up a bite to eat, and realized he would have to get used to not having his meals delivered to him by Roy anymore. That was one truth he was _not_ looking forward to.

Oliver passed the lengthy driving time by listening to music. As soon as he could get a satellite radio signal, he tuned in to the all-Elvis channel. He hummed along to the songs he knew by heart, but it wasn’t until he was nearly back to Starling that he recognized the song Felicity had hummed to him in bed two nights ago.

As soon as Oliver heard the familiar tune, he immediately recalled those moments with her, right after they’d made love. He remembered her resting peacefully beneath him, running her hands up and down his spine while she hummed. He hadn’t been able to place her song just then, but he could now, as he listened to it filtering into his car: _Wise men say only fools rush in, but I can’t help falling in love with you…_

Oliver’s heart pumped wildly in his chest while the deep, impassioned voice moved across his skin. Tears sprang to the corners of his eyes, and he had to fight them back as the words sunk in. Then he forced himself to straighten in his seat, and focus, so he could get to her as quickly and safely as possible.

When he arrived on the street where he’d worked nearly every day of his life for the past dozen years, Oliver’s instinct was to turn into the parking lot of Queen Consolidated. But he didn’t do that today. He made a left instead, and pulled beneath Felicity’s office building.

He’d arrived just a few minutes early for his “appointment”, and as he stepped out of his car and walked through the parking garage to enter the first floor, Oliver drank in the details of his surroundings. Security guards waited just past the front doors, instructing Oliver to remove his keys and watch from his pockets in order to pass through the metal detectors. The guards observed him with keen eyes as he cleared the detectors, and Oliver nodded at the burly men, reassured by the knowledge that Felicity’s workplace was so safe.

Once he’d retrieved his personal effects again, Oliver found a restroom near the elevator on the first floor. He spent a moment freshening up, and checking his appearance in the mirror. While he stared at his reflection, he recognized the same old face he’d seen the day he arrived at Blue, with the same crinkles at the corners of his eyes. But this face didn’t look so worn and weary anymore. And the crinkles looked more like laugh lines.

Oliver smiled to himself before leaving the washroom to head to the elevator. Pulling her business card from his pocket, he verified Felicity’s office suite number while stepping onto the elevator. His stomach flipped over on itself when he pushed the button for the 17th floor. And then he stood, as patiently as possible, waiting to reach her.

When the _ding_ resounded at his arrival, Oliver squeezed his fingers together before stepping out into a long hallway. He turned to the right, and walked to the end of the hall, and then stood before the opaque glass door that read: _Dr. Felicity Smoak_. Sucking in a deep breath, Oliver reached for the handle and stepped inside.

The waiting area was bright and homey, with floor-to-ceiling windows that shone with the softly glowing evening sunlight. Two couches lay at angles before the window, and a reception desk sat to his right. The thin, middle-aged woman behind the desk jumped up from her seat the moment she saw him.

“Mr. Forest, is that you?”

“Yes, hello,” Oliver offered, trying to reassure the obviously frazzled lady by giving her a warm smile and a nod. “I’m here for my appointment. I take it you’re Marie?”

“I am,” she acknowledged, coming around the desk to shake his hand. “I’m so glad you got here safely.”

Oliver gave her small hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it. “I did. Although I’m sorry I’m a bit early.”

“Oh, no, that’s okay. Dr. Smoak still has a patient with her now, but it should just be few moments until she’s available. You can fill out some paperwork for me while you’re waiting, if you don’t mind.”

“Paperwork?” he questioned, as if he’d never been to a doctor’s office before. _Of course there’s paperwork, Oliver._

“Yes, let me just grab that,” she said, pushing her short black hair behind her ears as she turned back to her desk.

He observed the woman while she bustled around, gathering a clipboard and pen. Oliver felt more and more guilty about the lies he’d told her in order to get his way in here unannounced. Because he figured he was going to see this woman a lot more in the future, and sooner or later she would have to know the truth.

“Here you are, Jonas,” Marie said when she stepped back to him and handed over the papers. “Is it okay if I call you Jonas?”

Oliver nodded.

“Alright then, please fill in the first two forms completely, and initial the third form here, here, and here, and then answer the questions on the fourth page. And if you have your insurance card with you, I can take that now.”

“You need my insurance card?”

“Yes, if you have it with you.”

“I…I don’t,” he lied again, cringing with the words.

“Oh, well, do you want to get me that information later?”

“Um, maybe not.”

Marie’s brow furrowed, and then her face softened in concern. “Do you need financial assistance, Jonas? Dr. Smoak has programs in place for patients who are unable to pay, and she also runs a clinic downtown, for individual and group therapy sessions for…”

“She runs a clinic, too?”

“Yes. Do you need information on that?”

“No, it’s…I’ll just pay cash. Is cash okay?”

“Of course,” she said, gesturing to the couch. “Why don’t you just have a seat now, and make yourself comfortable while you wait.”

Oliver did as requested, and eased down into the fluffy cushions, as he stared at the clipboard in his hand. He wrote his fake name in at the top of the first form, but tried to answer every other question as truthfully as possible. After all, he was perfectly fine with Felicity having his real home address and phone number. He actually wanted her to become very familiar with that information, the sooner the better.

When he got to the fourth piece of paperwork, Oliver glanced over the form and realized it was some sort of basic psychological assessment. The first question at the top of the page read: _How are you feeling today?_

He stared at those words. He stared long and hard, trying to decide the most truthful answer. Because the truth was that he felt about a hundred different things right now. He was angry still, at least a little, about the fact that Felicity had never told him the truth. And he was excited to see her again, to see her with the truth exposed in stark light. And he was curious, wondering how she would respond when she realized that he’d come for her. And he was scared, because he honestly didn’t know how hard she was going to fight him.

But as he sat there, waiting for her door to open so he could walk back into her life – walk into her _real_ life – what Oliver felt most was the _pull_. The pull he always felt toward her, from the first moment he’d laid eyes on her. He could feel it so strongly now, because he knew she sat on the other side of the wall in front of him. And he just wanted to see her. So badly.

Putting his pen to the paper, Oliver jotted a few things down; he wasn’t even entirely sure of all the words he wrote. But he did get through to the end of the questionnaire, and then stood from the couch to take the clipboard back to Marie. She smiled up at him from behind the desk. “Thank you, Jonas. And here is your bill.”

Oliver took the new paper in his hand and stared at the amount typed in at the bottom. His eyes bulged a bit, because he couldn’t believe how expensive it was to have an appointment with Dr. Smoak. No wonder Roy couldn’t afford her.

Reaching into his wallet, Oliver pulled out several hundred-dollar bills and handed them to Marie without another thought. He honestly didn’t care how much it cost to get this time with his Felicity; he would have thrown a million dollars on Marie’s desk right now, if it meant he could finally see his freebird in the real world.

After Marie took his money and handed him a receipt, Oliver shoved the slip of paper in his pocket and went to sit back on the couch, to wait. He stared at the receptionist while she began typing his information into her computer. As he watched her work, Oliver grasped his hands together in his lap. His leg began to move, bouncing nervously up and down.

He felt too much like a patient right now. This – sitting here in this waiting room with a receptionist and paperwork and all manner of formalities – is what it felt like to be a patient of Dr. Felicity Smoak. But this wasn’t what existed between them on that mountain. This felt nothing like what they’d had up there. Because he _wasn’t_ Felicity’s patient at Blue. He wasn’t, damn it. No matter what anyone thought.

A moment later, the large mahogany door to the left of Marie’s desk swung open and another woman emerged, this one younger than him. The woman’s eyes were swollen, as if she’d been crying, and she barely even glanced in his direction before turning toward the reception desk. “Can I make my next appointment, Marie?”

“Certainly, Cindy. Give me just a moment.”

Marie lifted her head to Oliver then, motioning her hand toward the door. “You can go in for your session now, Mr. Forest.”

Oliver nodded, and stood, stepping toward the inner office. His hands shook as he pulled open the door to his Felicity. Because the last time he’d seen this woman, she’d been naked and wrapped up against his chest. She’d just made love to him, using all of her heart and body and soul, and then she’d hummed an Elvis tune about falling in love, and then she’d fallen asleep in his arms. Warm and soft and peaceful.

Oliver stepped quietly into the back of the huge, elongated room, and pulled the door closed silently behind him.

The first thing he noted was that her office reminded him of Blissful Blue. It was vast and spacious, and the walls were paneled in the same dark mahogany as the door, and there were plants everywhere. So many, many plants – from floor to ceiling.   A pristine leather couch lay some yards before him, then several chairs, and then an oversized desk with a laptop on it.

Felicity sat behind the computer, her eyes focused on the screen.

Standing unnoticed in the back of the room, Oliver watched her for a silent moment. Less than two days had passed since he’d laid eyes on his forest fairy, but it felt like an eternity. The last time he’d gone this long without seeing her, he’d only made it 36 hours before desperation kicked in. This time, he made it slightly longer. But only slightly.

Felicity’s fingers flew across the keyboard while she typed. She remained oblivious to the fact that he’d entered the room, and Oliver listened to the click of the keys as he observed her. His freebird was just like he remembered, mostly. Her skin was still a perfect cream, her lips still gorgeous pink, her eyes still light as the sky. She wore her hair up in a ponytail today, like she had that last day they were together at Blue. But now she was also wearing…glasses.

“I didn’t know you wore glasses,” he said.

Felicity stopped typing.

Oliver saw her chest move with a sharp inhalation. He watched her fingers tremble as she reached up to close the lid of her laptop. Then she took another deep breath in before her gaze rose up to focus in on him from across the expanse of the room.

“I wear them when I read.”

“Well, I guess we didn’t do much reading when we were together, did we?”

He took a few steps closer to her before stopping again.

Felicity watched him for a long minute, and then swallowed hard.

“So…you’re Mr. Forest? Jonas Forest?”

“Jonas is my middle name. I know how you like middle names.”

Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips. “I should have figured out the ‘Forest’ part. I suppose I just…wasn’t expecting you.”

Oliver stared her down. “Did you really think I wouldn’t find you, Felicity?”

She shifted in her thick leather chair. “Yes. No. I…I don’t know. I guess I just didn’t think you’d find me this soon. You’re supposed to still be at Blue, Oliver.”

He ignored that statement entirely, and instead turned toward the wall of greenery beside him. Taking a few steps forward, he took note of the ridiculous number of pots and stands. “You have a lot of plants. I remember you telling me that you had a lot of plants, but…damn, this is a lot of plants.”

He reached out to touch the one closest to him, his fingertips grazing the feathery leaves.

“That’s a fern,” Felicity explained. “It thrives in low light.”

Oliver glanced back to her. “An ideal for your patients to strive toward?”

She blinked behind her glasses. “Something like that.”

He nodded and then turned away again, moving around the perimeter of the room, soaking in his surroundings. He kept walking until he stood just a few feet from her desk, and then pivoted his body in order to look at a wall of framed diplomas and certificates. His eyes skimmed over several of the obviously hard-earned accolades.

“I see you have a lot of degrees and honors, Dr. Smoak. I suppose I should be happy that I was in such good hands while I was at Blue,” he said, knowing it was a low blow – and not even what he meant to say – but unable to stop the words from spilling out.

Felicity sucked in a deep breath behind him, but didn’t reply.

Oliver continued to read the contents of each wall frame. When he finished, he took a few steps toward the tall, bright windows overlooking the city. This entire corner of her office was made of glass, and he stood before it, gazing out to the building across the street. “That’s my office, you know. Queen Consolidated. You can see the huge ‘Q’ on the side of building.”

“Yes, Oliver. I am well aware of that.”

“Since when?” he questioned, turning his head toward her. “When exactly did you know that we worked across the street from each other?”

Felicity straightened in her seat, pivoting the chair toward him and squaring her shoulders against the brown leather backrest. “Since the moment you told me your last name.”

“That…that was the first night we played Twister on your living room floor.”

“Yes, that was the night.”

He smiled then, just a little, because he remembered how adorable his forest fairy looked, with tiny hairs sticking up out of her blond ponytail, after they’d wrestled with each other for hours on a plastic mat. That wasn’t how she looked now, though. This Solemnly Sedate Felicity was completely different – all tightness and solidity and determination.

“That night feels like a lifetime ago. It feels like a fantasy,” he admitted, regretting the words the moment they came out.

Felicity nodded slowly. “That’s because it was a fantasy, Oliver. Blissful Blue wasn’t real life. We both know that.”

He inwardly cringed with her expected response, but attempted to hide his reaction as best he could. He refused to acknowledge what she said. So instead, he stared out of her office windows, to his own building across the street, gathering his thoughts before looking back to her.

Oliver took a few steps forward, watching her chin rise as she attempted to maintain her poise while he approached. He stopped himself when he was still a good distance away from her. He didn’t want to appear too confrontational. At least, not any more than he had to be. Because he knew if he pushed this woman too hard, she would just push back harder, and that wouldn’t get them anywhere.

Oliver observed Dr. Smoak for a long minute: the rigidness of her spine as she sat in her deep chair; the clear, focused blue of her eyes as she peered at him through her glasses; the shallowness and rapidity of the breaths she worked to keep steady inside her chest. He wished he could see some of his forest fairy inside of her here, now. He wished there was some indication – however small – that his freebird still existed inside this office.

Felicity’s eyes darted down to her desktop, and Oliver followed her line of sight…to the two little leaves resting on the wood surface. Green with red, and red with green. They were the leaves that had clung to her hair in the forest, and they were here. On her desk. On _Dr. Smoak’s_ desk.

Oliver smiled at the sight. Then he watched as she moved her hands to the arms of her chair. He stood and watched while her fingers squeezed tight to the padded leather.

Felicity cleared her throat. “I imagine you have a lot of questions for me, Oliver.”

He chuckled softly to himself, because she was using that “therapist voice” right now – the one he recognized from talking to Lance – the one he knew from being friends with Digg for so long. He continued to stare at her fingers, observing as they twitched against the armrests.

“Actually, Felicity, I only have one question.”

“Just one?”

“Yes.”

“What is it?”

He lifted his eyes to pin them onto hers. “Why did you leave?”

Her lips parted. “Why did I leave? Are you really asking me that?”

“Yes, I am. And I don’t want to hear that it’s because I never knew you were a doctor. Or that you thought of me as a patient, which would have made our relationship unethical. Or that Lance might have found out about us, which could have destroyed your medical career.”

Felicity’s eyebrows rose above the rim of her glasses. “Are you saying those aren’t good enough reasons for me to leave?”

“No, actually, those are all perfectly fine reasons for you to leave. But I don’t think any of them are the real reason you left, and that’s what I really want to know. And please don’t repeat that Keanu Reeves quote about the fate of relationships based on intense experiences, because we’re not on a speeding bus anymore. We’re here in the real world now, dealing with reality, and that quote no longer applies.”

“Well, it kind of does, Oliver.”

“No, it doesn’t. And besides, you do know those two characters from _Speed_ end up together, right? They’re a couple by the end of the movie. There’s a sequel and everything.”

She smiled softly. “Yeah, but the sequel was awful.”

“That’s just because Keanu Reeves wasn’t in it,” he replied, taking a moment to appreciate the beauty of her curved lips. “But I don’t want to talk about movies right now; I want to talk about us. I want you to answer my question. Why did you leave, Felicity?”

“Oliver, I…”

He took one step forward. “I know you didn’t want to leave me. I _know_ you didn’t. That last night, when we made love, you held onto me so tight – like your life depended on mine – and I know you didn’t want to leave. And the letter you wrote me? Dear God, Felicity, that letter…I think I’ve read it a hundred times. The woman who wrote that letter cares _so deeply_ for me, and I know this isn’t what you really want. I know you don’t want us to be apart. So _why_ , in the name of all that’s holy, did you _leave_? Why didn’t you just stay, and tell me the truth?”

She watched him the entire time he spoke, focusing on his face as her lips trembled with his words. When he finished, Felicity took a deep breath in and looked him squarely in the eye. “When I first met you, Oliver, you were so closed off. So angry. You didn’t want to be at Blue; you even insisted that you’d only gone there on a dare. You weren’t ready for therapy, and I knew, from the moment I found you crouched down and grumbling by that blown tire, that if I told you I was a doctor – even one who was on vacation – you would run screaming in the opposite direction. I couldn’t bear the thought of that. So I made the decision not to tell you, at least for a while. At least until you could get used to the idea of therapy, and until I could figure out how to open you up.”

“Open me up? But you were on vacation. You were on _your own_ vacation.”

“Yes, I _was_ on vacation, but…”

“Well, then, you shouldn’t have felt the need to play doctor with me. If you were on vacation, you shouldn’t have felt the need to open me at all.”

“You’re right; I shouldn’t have. But I just couldn’t help myself. I wanted to help you. I _needed_ to help you. As much as I’d promised myself that I would take a step away from the real world for those two weeks, when I saw you, I just couldn’t turn that part of me off. I still needed to help you, because that’s who I am, Oliver. I’d been doubting that fact, before I went up to that mountain. God, I’d been questioning everything in my life, if I’m being brutally honest.”

“I like brutal honesty,” he interjected, watching as she closed her eyes for a brief moment. “Please give me all the honesty you can. I want all of it.”

Felicity refocused on him. “I tried to give you honesty at Blue. At least, as much as I felt I could. I told you once that the reason I went there was to begin a journey, to reconnect with my roots, to find my joy.”

Oliver could so easily recall that moment. He could still hear those words whispered to him while he held her bare body against his in the warm bathwater. “I remember, Felicity.”

“Well, that was the truth. And the reason I needed to take that journey was because I was struggling here in the real world, Oliver. I was questioning every decision I’d ever made, questioning my very identity. You basically caught me in the middle of a mid-life crisis.”

“A mid-life crisis?”

“Yes, for lack of a better term. Although that may be a particularly bad choice of words, considering I would really like to live past the age of 58.”

Oliver couldn’t help smiling, and Felicity returned the smile briefly before her face fell again. Looking down to her hands, she studied her fingers while they trembled against the leather. “I tried really hard _not_ to struggle while I was at Blue. I tried to just be happy and carefree, and I did a lot of things up on that mountain that I normally wouldn’t have. I did a lot of things that I _shouldn’t_ have.”

“You mean like being physically intimate with me.”

“Yes,” she whispered. “I hope you can forgive me for entering into that kind of relationship with you. I never should have done it.”

“You were on vacation, Felicity. And you told me we shouldn’t get involved that way, but I didn’t listen to you. I basically seduced you, especially that first night.”

“It doesn’t matter; I should have fought harder against it. I knew it was wrong, but I just kept telling myself that it was okay, because we were two adults on vacation and our relationship was consensual.”

“It was consensual. I don’t feel violated, if that’s something you’re worried about. And I still don’t regret anything. You said you didn’t, either…that last night in bed, you said you would never regret a moment we spent together.”

“And I don’t,” she insisted, looking back to his eyes. “I don’t regret a moment of us. Even if I lose everything because of it, I will still never regret a moment I had with you.”

Oliver cringed with those words. “You don’t have to lose anything. I have no desire to hurt you; you must know that.”

“I do know that. I really do. And honestly, it’s still hard for me to believe you never found out that I was a doctor while we were at Blue. I just figured Roy would accidentally mention something, or you would hear it from Tommy or Quentin. In the back of my mind, it was always a concern.”

“Because you thought Lance would be angry and you might lose your medical practice?”

Felicity tilted her head as she observed him. “No, Oliver. Because I knew it would hurt you to find out that way, and hurting you was the last thing I wanted to do.”

His brow arched. “So you didn’t care that you might lose your practice?”

“Of course I cared. At first, I cared a lot. But then, when we grew closer, and I realized that I was actually _truly_ helping you to live again, I decided that any consequence I would have to face for my actions would be worth it.”

Oliver’s chest tightened. “Are you saying that losing everything you’ve worked for – the nine-week backlog of patients waiting to see you here, and the clinic you run, not to mention Tommy and Roy and Pete and everyone else who relies on you – would have been worth it, just to help me?”

She looked straight into him. “Absolutely.”

He shifted his stance, his heart thudding against his ribcage. “Well, I don’t think that’s going to be an issue. The few people who knew about us up at Blue are all ridiculously loyal to you. Tommy promised me he would take his knowledge of us to his grave. And Pete didn’t know much, but swore himself to secrecy over what he did know. And I think Roy would lay himself down on train tracks before he’d ever hurt you.”

Felicity’s eyes filled with moisture. “They’re all such wonderful people.”

“They all adore you,” he said. “But not as much as I do.”

Her breath hitched with his words.

“So, will you answer my question now, Felicity?”

“Wh-which question?”

“Why did you leave?”

She pressed her lips back together.

Oliver waited for a long moment for her to answer.

When she didn’t, he sighed.

“Is it _really_ because I didn’t know the truth about you being a doctor? Because I still don’t understand why you didn’t just tell me. I mean, I get why you didn’t tell me at first; you thought I would run away screaming, and you were right, I probably would have. But why didn’t you tell me later, after we were really together?”

“I wanted to tell you, Oliver. I swear I did. I thought about it so many times. But I knew it would change things between us. I knew that, even if you didn’t run away screaming, you would still see me as Dr. Felicity Smoak, and I didn’t want to be her. Not when I was with you. I wanted to just be Felicity, because the Felicity you saw was free and adventurous and happy. I wanted to be _that_ person, just for a little while – to be a person I hadn’t been in as long as I could remember. I wanted to take a break from reality, and I know that was a terribly selfish thought, but I told myself it was okay, because you and I only had a few days together anyway.” She paused to take a breath, her fingers digging into the chair arms. “But there was one moment when I almost said the words…one time when I almost told you everything.”

Oliver took another step forward. “When? When was that?”

“That last night at the restaurant. We were sitting together at the dinner table, and you were holding my hand and telling me about the woman you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. And I wanted that woman to be me. I wanted it so badly, but there was this lie – this huge lie between us – and I knew I had to tell you the truth, before we could go any further.”

“So why didn’t you just tell me?”

“Because you thanked me.”

“ _What_?”

“You thanked me for helping you at Blue. You thanked me for helping you understand your life, and for helping you learn how to be happy. Don’t you remember?”

“Yes, of course I remember. And I meant every word. But what the hell does that have to do with anything?”

Felicity sighed. “It just confirmed what I already knew, what I’d known all along: you were a patient at Blue, a patient who needed help. I gave you that help. And yes, technically, I was on vacation. But that doesn’t change the fact that our relationship was therapeutic in nature, and it doesn’t change the fact that all therapy is based on trust. If I had sat there in that restaurant with you, and told you that I was a doctor at Blue, and that I’d been lying to you about it since the moment I met you, it would have destroyed your trust in me. Which could have destroyed all the progress you’d made.” She stopped speaking to breathe, her voice shaking as she continued. “Y-you told me that I helped you to be happy, and that’s all I ever wanted for you. So how could I have told you the truth then? How could I take away your trust, and take away your happiness, just because of my own desire to be with you, to fulfill my own needs? I’d already been so selfish, but taking all of that away from you would have been the most selfish thing I could possibly do. Ever.”

Oliver’s hands shook at his sides as he absorbed her words. Because he understood now. He understood that she believed she’d done all this for his own good. But more than that, he understood that she _did_ want him, which was the best thing he’d ever heard.

_So why doesn’t she look happier about being here with me now?_

He forced his shoulders to relax. “Felicity, you do realize you just admitted that you want to be with me, right?”

A tiny smile pulled at her pink lips. “Is that what you took from my speech?”

“Yup. That’s what I took from it.”

She smiled for one moment longer, and then her lips fell. “What I want doesn’t matter.”

“What? How can you say that?”

“Because it’s the truth. I have to do what’s right here, and my wishes don’t matter.”

“They matter to me.”

A whimper escaped her throat, but then she straightened in her chair and looked him right in the eyes. “Oliver, I liked who I was on that mountain with you, but please understand…that’s not who I really am. I’m not the free-spirited woman you met by the side of the road. _This_ ,” she said, motioning to the room around them, “is me. Dr. Felicity Smoak. This is who I am.”

Oliver’s jaw unhinged as he stared back at her. Because those words clarified a million things all at once, and he could finally see the light through the trees. “Oh my God, is that what this is really all about? Do you actually think that I don’t _know_ you? That I don’t know _who you_ _are_? Is that the reason you didn’t tell me you bought wood spackle at the hardware store?”

“Well, I…I really did use the restroom when I went inside the store.”

“I’m not doubting that. But you also bought wood spackle, and you didn’t tell me. And I’m just now realizing it’s because you think I wouldn’t have understood, because you think I only saw one side of you. You think I only saw the person you were allowing yourself to be for a brief moment of time – the reinvigorated Girl Scout running around in the forest. But you couldn’t be more wrong.”

Felicity’s brow quirked in confusion.

“I can’t believe you think you hid yourself from me, because you didn’t,” Oliver insisted, taking several more steps toward her, so only a few feet of space separated them.

She stared up at him, her breaths moving stiffly through her chest.

“I saw you, Felicity. Up there, on that mountain. I saw those little moments when your façade cracked. When you mourned being on vacation, and when you regretted lying to me. God, the last day we were in the forest together, you practically came apart in my arms – begging me to forgive you for pushing me to take such a hard look at my life. I didn’t know why you felt so bad about it at the time. But I did know that the person in my arms, begging my forgiveness, wasn’t a carefree, untroubled woman.

“And those aren’t the only things I saw, either. There were so many little things, too. Like how you lined up your toiletries so precisely in the bathroom, and how you packed your luggage like a schoolmarm, and how you went out of your way to buy wood spackle to fill in the holes you’d made. I saw you, Felicity. Or maybe I should say that I saw _both_ of you.”

Her eyes widened behind her glasses. “Both of me?”

“Both of you.” Oliver straightened himself in front of her. “I named them, you know. The two sides of you.”

“You… _named_ them?”

“Yes. The carefree little forest fairy – the one you called Meganson – I call her Frolicking Freebird Felicity.”

She laughed, a sound as bright as any he’d ever heard, and Oliver smiled in response.

“Freebird,” she echoed.

“Yes. My freebird. She was the person I was with the most up on that mountain. But I also saw _this_ person – the woman sitting in front of me now. I named her Solemnly Sedate Felicity. And no, I didn’t know she was a doctor, but I knew she existed. Because I watched you, baby. I was right there beside you, and I watched you struggle, trying to decide which woman you really were. Which woman you _are_.”

Her lip quivered as the smile dropped from her face. “The answer is _this_ woman, Oliver. I can’t be that freebird you knew. Too many people depend on the person I am right now – sometimes with their very lives – and I’ve realized that this is who I was always meant to be.”

Oliver’s brow furrowed as he listened to her, as he inched closer. “Okay, fine. You’ve decided to leave the freebird behind, and be this person. So here you are, helping others, and even though I may not agree completely with your logic, I do understand it. But I honestly don’t see what it has to do with us. I don’t see why you can’t help these people and still be with me.”

Felicity squared her shoulders. “It’s because I’m _not_ the person you were with on that mountain. I’m _not_ that freebird. I’m Dr. Smoak, a physician at Blissful Blue Retreat. And you were a patient, Oliver. A _patient_.”

“ _No,_ ” he spit out. “You were on vacation. We both were. We were _both_ patients.”

“It doesn’t matter. What I did was wrong.”

Oliver threw his hands up in the air. “Well, then, I forgive you! Damn it, Felicity, I forgive you! So now that’s over, and we can move on!”

She cringed with his outburst, her eyelids blinking rapidly behind her dark frames, and Oliver reigned in his temper as quickly as he could. But he knew it was too late. The damage was already done, and the person he thought he’d been reaching was now closed off again. He watched her fingers twitch against the arms of her chair, and he wanted to touch her so badly – to feel the connection of his skin to hers – that it damn near took his breath away.

Felicity held still as stone while she observed him, waiting patiently until his shoulders fell back down and he met her gaze evenly. Then she began speaking, her tone calm and steady. “I go to Blue several times a year to see patients, Oliver, and I have been since I first came out of my residency. I actually started my practice at Blue, and I’ve always enjoyed my time there as a physician. But this visit, for the first time ever, I asked Dr. Lance if I could spend two of my three weeks there alone, for personal reflection. At first, he said no. He was quite adamant about it, actually. He didn’t think it was a good idea for me to be there and not be practicing, because he said it would confuse the patients, especially those who came specifically to see me. I understood his argument. But I wanted so desperately to be there, and to have my journey in those woods, that I begged him until he caved in. It wasn’t easy; I had to promise not to have any communication with any guests after that first week. I had to promise I wouldn’t attend any common functions, or be seen around the grounds. I basically had to promise Dr. Lance my firstborn child, just to have the opportunity to be there by myself for those two weeks. But I knew it would be worth it, because I needed that time, so badly.

“I told you a few days ago that I felt weak and beaten when I got to Blue, and that was the absolute truth. I needed my journey there, Oliver. I needed to recharge myself, so I could come back to the real world and be this person again. And I never should have involved you in any of that, but I did, and I still don’t regret it. I will never regret it. Because from the moment you let me see into your heart – to really see everything you’d been struggling with for so many years – I realized that my journey at Blue was always supposed to be bound to yours.”

Felicity stopped speaking for a moment, inhaling deeply before smiling softly up into his eyes. “Do you know that I actually got a little lost in the woods, the day I met you? I’ve never gotten lost in those woods before, but that day – the day you arrived – I got a bit turned around, and I came out of the forest farther down on the road than I normally would have. I recognized where I was immediately, once I’d stepped out of the tree line. And then I saw you. I saw you crouched down by that tire, held up there by the flitting of a squirrel. It felt so random, so arbitrary. But days later, when you told me your last name, it occurred to me just how many times we’d probably passed each other on the street here in Starling, and never met. And yet, that day at Blue, I got lost in the woods, and you got waylaid by a squirrel, and we found each other.

“It amazed me to think about it, to think about how the stars aligned for us on that mountain. I mean, just the fact that no one up there ever mentioned the name Dr. Smoak to you, not even once in fourteen days, was unbelievable to me. And I began to understand, as we spent more and more time together, that I was supposed to be there for your journey. I believe that I was always meant to guide you, from the moment I saw you. And realizing that really helped me, Oliver. It helped me remember why I chose to become a doctor in the first place. Knowing that I could bring you out of the forest you were in meant that I could do the same thing for other people, too. And now I’m just grateful I had the opportunity to guide you. I’m just grateful I was able to be there.

“So I hope you can understand why I didn’t tell you the truth about me. I hope you understand that I chose not to tell you, because I never wanted to harm you by breaking your trust in me. Instead, I chose to leave. I chose to leave you, so that you could finish healing. I chose to come back here to my life – the life I was always meant to lead.

“And I knew that, when I came back home, I would have to look out of my window and see your building. I knew that I would have to sit here, knowing you were practically within the reach of my fingertips, and not say a word about it. But I made that decision, and I stand by it. Because Blue gave us both what we needed in order to move on with our lives, and now it’s time for us to do that.”

Felicity held tight to arms of the chair while she looked into him. “I can’t be your frolicking freebird here in the real world, Oliver. And you need to let me go now, so you can move on. So we can both move on.”

Oliver stood, stunned.

Let her go? _Let her go?_ What the fuck was she even talking about? Hadn’t she just admitted a few minutes ago that she wanted to be with him? Why wouldn’t she let herself have this relationship? Why would she let _them_ have this relationship?

He took three more steps toward her, erasing the space between them entirely, forcing her to look up to his eyes. “You know, Felicity, if you wanted me to believe that there was no hope for us, you never should have written me that letter.”

She blinked several times before stiffening her spine. “I’m sorry, Oliver.”

His jaw clenched with her words, because he didn’t need any more apologies. He just needed her. He just needed them.

He stood there, staring down into her eyes, for the longest time. And then Oliver shook his head, over and over again, completely exasperated by all of this. Because Dr. Smoak sat stiff and still before him – full of determination and resolve – and it frustrated him beyond belief. He just couldn’t get through to her right now, because his mind was too tossed and too tortured, and her walls were too thick and too high. This argument between them was just going in circles, and he couldn’t think of anyway to change the direction at this point in time. Especially since he wasn’t exactly sure why she still resisted him so hard.

Oliver took a deep breath in, and then exhaled, resigning himself to the only course of action he currently had. “I’m going to leave now, Felicity.”

“I think that’s…that’s for the best.”

He closed his eyes. _Goddamn it! No it’s not! It’s not for the best! Why can’t you see that? Why can’t you just admit that we’re better off together?_

When he reopened his eyes, he pinned them onto hers. He stared into her, stared into the sky blue behind the glasses, searching for that woman he knew on the mountain. The woman he’d held in his arms so many times. The woman who bounced and bubbled and laughed. The woman he’d kissed senseless, for hours on end. The woman who’d come apart beneath his hands and his mouth – who’d come so hard for him that she forgot where she was, and banged her head into furniture. The woman he’d made love to just two nights ago, who’d achingly whispered his name as tears ran down her face.

Oliver wanted nothing more than to see that woman right now – to _feel_ that woman right now – so he trailed his eyes down her body, just drinking her in. He took in the slope of her shoulders under her tailored blouse, and the curve of her hips beneath her pencil skirt, and the perfection of her tiny feet inside her heels. God, she was wearing high heels. Red ones. He wanted to fuck her in them. He wanted to fuck her right out of them. And then he wanted to take her back to his house and make her dinner. And then snuggle up with her on his couch and talk to her for hours. And then lay her down in his bed and make love to her again and again.

By the time Oliver finally managed to peel his eyes away from the sight of her red heels, and drag his gaze slowly up her body and back to her face, Felicity was barely breathing. He wasn’t exactly sure what she saw in his eyes when she looked at him right now, but whatever it was, it obviously set her body on fire. She shifted nervously in her seat as she watched him, her knuckles whitening against the chair arms. Then her tongue darted out, moistening her lips for just a second, and Oliver couldn’t stand it any longer.

He leaned forward, placing his hands in front of hers on the armrests, the tips of his fingers overlapping her own. His breath lodged in his throat as his face came just an inch from hers. And then he took a deep inhale, filling his lungs with her fresh soap and tiny flowers.

“God, I missed you,” he whispered against her lips. “It’s only been two days since I felt your skin on mine, but I swear it’s been a lifetime.”

“ _Oliver_ ,” she breathed, whimpering as her fingers shifted across his.

His mouth hovered close to hers, and Oliver could feel her lips tremble. Felicity’s entire body hummed, pulling toward him. Because his freebird wanted his touch. She wanted his touch, and his kiss. He could just take a kiss from her now. He could take a hundred kisses. Hell, he could just take all of her, for this one moment. But he knew he couldn’t do that. Because he wanted more. He wanted more than a moment. He wanted everything.

Oliver held himself there, suspended above her, for as long as he could – just relishing the feel of her shallow breaths against his skin. Then he forced himself to pull away from the ungodly temptation of her mouth. He raised his face up instead, so he could press a kiss to her forehead. Her skin was soft and smooth beneath his lips, and he heard a sigh escape her throat as he soaked in her warmth for a long minute. When he finally eased back to look on her face, her eyelids were closed, her dark lashes resting softly against her flushed cheeks.

Leaning in once more, Oliver pressed his cheek beside hers to whisper in her ear. “I’m leaving now, Felicity, but you should know that I will be back. Because this isn’t over between us. Not by any stretch of the imagination.”

He pulled away then, straightening himself and stepping back from her desk, before she had the chance to reply. He didn’t want to hear any more protests today. He didn’t want to hear any of her “rational” thoughts. He just needed to get out of this office, so he could clear his own mind. He needed to leave, so he could think this all through, and figure out what weapons he needed in order to come back to fight this battle on different terms.

The moment Oliver stepped through Felicity’s thick door and into the reception area, Marie jumped up from her seat and smiled at him. “Did everything go alright during your session, Mr. Forest?”

Oliver stopped dead in his tracks and stared the woman down. “That’s not my real name, Marie. My name is Oliver Queen.”

“You’re…you’re Oliver Queen?”

“I am. And I think you and I should start getting used to one another, because I am going to be coming back here. A lot. But not as a patient.”

Marie’s brow furrowed as she looked at him, and Oliver gave her a brief nod before he spun on his heels and left. He didn’t stop moving after that. He marched straight down the hall, and onto the elevator, and through the lobby, and out to the parking garage. He didn’t stop moving until he sunk into the driver’s seat of his Porsche and gripped onto the steering wheel. Then he stared blankly ahead as he worked to calm his rapid breathing.

That meeting with Felicity didn’t go the way he wanted. It went the way he should have probably expected it to go, but it definitely wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted her to give in to the pull between them. He wanted her to forgo all logic and reason, and just embrace the joy they’d found up on that mountain.

Because Oliver knew, deep in his soul, that Felicity loved him. Even while she sat stiffly in her office chair – portraying herself as the stoic, serious physician – he could see those emotions in her eyes. He could feel her longing to be with him, feel her yearning to touch him. And Oliver knew she loved him as much as he loved her.

So why wouldn’t she allow herself to just embrace these beautifully insane emotions? Was it honestly because she didn’t think he knew her as a person? Or was it because she thought she couldn’t manage her life unless she maintained the persona of the solemnly sedate doctor? Did she truly believe that she couldn’t help people unless she buried her freebird deep inside?

He couldn’t bear the thought of her doing that forever. He couldn’t fathom the idea that she would just _survive_. Not her. Not his forest fairy. She needed to live. She needed to fly. And he couldn’t just leave her there – trapped in that place – caged inside bars of her own making.

But how in the hell could he change the decisions of a person with a mind that brilliant?

Oliver shook his head while he held tight to the steering wheel. He needed help. He needed someone to help him clarify his thoughts. Hell, he needed someone to _argue_ with him, without pulling any punches. And the only person who fit that bill was one of the other most renowned psychiatrists in Starling City: Dr. John Diggle.

Oliver knew Digg; he knew his best friend would listen to everything he had to say, and then come back at him with every bit of logic and reason he could. Which meant that if Oliver could convince Digg about rightness of this relationship with Felicity, then he could convince anyone. Including her.

And Oliver had to convince her. He just had to. Because he couldn’t leave his freebird to suffocate. He had to show her that magic still existed. He had to show her that they’d found it together, up on that mountain. Because now that Oliver knew for certain that magic was real, he wanted to embrace it. Not just with her, but with everyone in his life.

He smiled wildly with that realization, so eager to begin the life he’d wanted to live for so long. So he started his Porsche and pulled out of the parking garage, heading straight to John’s house. The trip was quick and simple, and Oliver didn’t remember half of it. Because he’d traveled these exact streets a million times – traveled the roads from his office to the Diggle’s home in the suburbs – and Oliver knew the way by heart.

His entire body calmed when he arrived in front of John and Lyla’s two-story house – the one with the blue siding and white shutters and the red rosebushes surrounding the porch. This building was a true home, with people who loved and supported each other inside. It was a place Oliver always relished visiting, because it represented everything he’d ever wanted in his life.

He smiled with that thought as he jumped out of his car to walk up the long sidewalk. When he arrived at the front door, he took a deep breath and knocked.   A moment later, John answered the door, instantly stepping back to let him in.

“Hey, man, good to see you,” Digg offered as he shut the door behind him.

Oliver looked at the big, hulking man standing in the hallway. And then he smiled wildly, and closed the distance between them, in order to throw his arms around his friend.

The hug stunned Digg for a couple seconds, but then he returned it.

Oliver patted his friend on the back before he eased away. “Good to see you, too.”

“Apparently. So, what was the hug for?”

“Oh, nothing much. I just found out up at Blue that you once gave a lecture there on the benefits of therapeutic touch.”

Digg chuckled. “You’re right; I did.”

“Well, I figured you and I don’t really have any therapeutic touch between us, unless you count punching each other in the boxing ring, and I don’t want to count that. So I just thought I’d change things up a bit.”

John nodded and Oliver smiled again, just before he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. He looked to find baby Sara sitting on the living room floor, gnawing on a brightly colored plastic toy. She turned her wide, dark eyes up to his and then grinned and hiccupped simultaneously. His heart skipped a beat.

“She remembers me.”

“Of course she remembers you, Oliver. You’ve only been gone for two weeks.”

He looked back to Digg’s face. “Can I pick her up?”

John’s brow rose. “Yeah, man. Anytime.”

Oliver’s pulse skittered while he approached the tiny person. He wasn’t sure why he felt so nervous to touch her, except for the fact that he’d never held her before, because he’d never wanted to break her. When he bent down to reach for the bubbly girl, she bounced a bit on her diapered butt and squealed.

She was heavier than he’d imagined, and softer and warmer than he could have imagined. As he pulled her into his chest, Sara dropped her toy to the floor and grabbed hold of Oliver’s shirt, smiling up to his face. “Hi, Sara,” he said, softening his voice while taking one of her chubby little hands in his fingers. “You remember me, don’t you? You know your godfather. Can you say _godfather_?”

She giggled, a chunk of drool drifting from her lower lip onto her pink cotton shirt.

“You’re right, that’s hard to say, isn’t it? Maybe you can call me _uncle_ instead. Uncle Oliver. I like the sound of that. Do you like the sound of that, Digg?” he questioned, turning his gaze back to his friend’s.

Digg’s brow was lodged high on his forehead. “Damn, man, when you said on the phone that your entire life changed up at Blue, I thought you were exaggerating. But now I don’t think you were.”

Oliver smiled softly as he turned back to the little girl, holding tight to her tiny body. “Thank you for sending me up there, John.”

“You’re welcome. I’m just happy that Blue helped you. And I’m happy Felicity was with you. She’s an amazing woman.”

“She’s the best,” Oliver agreed, sighing contentedly while he stared into Sara’s bright, curious eyes. God, this felt good – to be able to hold this little person. To be able to watch over her, and protect her, and love her. He wanted to do that for his own daughter, one day…for the blond baby girl he’d imagined seeing in Felicity’s arms.

He glanced back to Digg, and watched his best friend’s eyes narrow at him, just before Lyla walked into the room.

“Oliver!” Lyla exclaimed, focusing in on the sight of him with Sara. “Look at you! You’re a natural with her.”

He grinned. “She’s just easy to be with, I think.”

Lyla returned his smile. “Well, as excited as Sara obviously is about being held by her godfather, it’s actually time for her bath. Why don’t I take her, so you and John can visit?”

Oliver nodded, even though he resisted the thought of letting the warm bundle out of his arms. As he passed the tiny grinning girl off to her mother, Oliver looked into Lyla’s light eyes. “Thank you,” he said.

Her brow crinkled. “For what, Oliver?”

“For everything you do. For allowing me to be a godfather. And for making my best friend so happy.”

Lyla blinked, her gaze darting to John’s before coming back to him. “You’re welcome,” she replied, smiling softly as she held her daughter to her chest and stepped out of the room.

Oliver watched the two ladies travel down the hallway, until they were out of his sight. Then he turned back to his friend.

Digg stared at him. Hard. “What’s going on with you, man?”

Oliver ran a hand across the back of his neck, because he knew Digg would always see through him. But right now, that was exactly what he needed. “I just…I really need to talk to you.”

“What about?”

“About Felicity.”

John frowned, shifting his legs. “You know, Oliver, I call her _Felicity_ because she’s my friend. But I’m thinking you should call her _Dr. Smoak_.”

He shook his head. “She wasn’t Dr. Smoak up on that mountain. Not to me. She was on vacation, just like I was.”

“On vacation?” Digg echoed, tilting his head as he focused in on Oliver’s eyes.

“Yeah, she was on vacation.”

“But…that doesn’t make any sense. Physicians at Blue don’t take vacations there.”

“So I’m told. But she did. She was there on vacation, and that’s how we met.”

“Vacation,” Digg echoed again, his gaze shifting to the ground while he struggled to wrap his mind around the thought. Then he raised his eyes back to Oliver’s. “Was she okay?”

“What do you mean?” Oliver asked, his heart stuttering.

“I mean, was Felicity doing alright when you saw her?”

Oliver straightened, staring into his friend’s dark eyes. “Why wouldn’t she be doing alright?”

“It’s nothing, I just…”

“No, it’s not nothing. It’s definitely not _nothing_ ,” Oliver insisted, his entire body now on high alert. “You know something about her, don’t you? I need you to tell me what you know. I need you to tell me _now_.”

“ _Oliver_ …”

“Dear God, John, is Felicity…is she a _patient_ of yours?”

The muscle in Digg’s jaw twitched as he clenched his teeth.

Oliver stepped closer to his imposing friend. “Tell me something. Anything. _Please_.”

“I think you know that I can’t give you any personal information about her. It would go against the ethics of doctor-patient confidentiality.”

“So she _is_ a patient of yours.”

John gave him a stern glower, and Oliver eased back a bit, trying to appear less confrontational. Because he knew Dr. John Diggle wouldn’t hesitate to shut this conversation down if he pushed too hard.

“I’m sorry, Digg. I just really need information. Any information you can give me.”

“And I’m sorry too, because I can’t answer you. All I can say is _no_ , Felicity is not my patient. But she is a colleague, and we have spoken personally from time to time, so I don’t feel comfortable sharing the things she told me in confidence.”

“So she needed your help with something? She needed to talk to you?”

Digg exhaled heavily, his shoulders falling. “Everyone has their demons, Oliver.”

His gut clenched hard, forcing acid into his throat.

Demons? What _demons_?

What was Digg even talking about? What did he know? Did he have the answer to what took the color red away from her?

Tears lit the corners of Oliver’s eyes. He knew his freebird had been struggling up at Blue. He knew she had problems to face; she’d told him that herself. But to hear Digg confirm it was just too much for him. Oliver didn’t want her to have any demons. He didn’t want anything in the world holding his little bird down; he didn’t want anything clipping her wings.

Blinking back the moisture that clouded his vision, Oliver ran a hand through his hair. He worked to take in a deep breath, worked to steady his mind and his heart. When he thought he could, he looked back to John.

Digg stood very still, watching his friend for a long moment. And then he nodded his head toward the hall. “Come on, Oliver, let’s go sit in the kitchen and talk. Lyla just made some fresh lemonade today. I can pour you a glass.”

“Lemonade?” Oliver repeated, his brain instantly focusing in on the word.

“Yeah. Come and have some.”

Oliver followed Digg’s heels down the hall, and then took a seat on one of the bar stools around the kitchen island, while Digg pulled out a glass and pitcher. Oliver watched the yellow liquid pour into the ice-filled cup, and grabbed it eagerly out of John’s hand the moment he offered it. He took a huge gulp before setting the glass down on the counter. Then he frowned.

“Don’t you like it, Oliver? Normally you love Lyla’s lemonade.”

“Yeah, I do, it’s just…it has a lot of sugar.”

“It’s the same amount she normally uses.”

“Oh, no, there’s nothing wrong with it. I appreciate you giving it to me,” Oliver replied as he pushed the glass back toward his friend. “It’s just not what I want.”

“Alright, well, would you rather have a beer?”

“No, thanks. I want to keep my head on straight right now.”

Digg placed Oliver’s glass in the sink and then turned back around to look his friend in the eye. “You’re pretty deep in thought right now, aren’t you, man?”

Oliver nodded. “Yeah, you could say that.”

“What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking I’m head over heels in love with Felicity.”

John’s eyebrow quirked up. “Excuse me?”

“I’m in love with her, John.”

Digg stared at Oliver for stretched minutes, and then swiped one hand slowly down his face, closing his eyes briefly before refocusing on his friend. “Oliver, I want you to really think about what you just said to me. Do you honestly believe that you’re in love with a woman you met _two weeks_ ago?”

“Yes, I do believe that, because it’s true. And that’s not the problem. The problem is that she refuses to be with me now that we’ve left Blue, and I honestly don’t know why.”

John’s face shifted, deep with concern. “Can I ask you a question, Oliver? I mean, I’m pretty sure I already know the answer, but I think it’s an important question, if you and I are really going to talk about this.”

“Go ahead and ask.”

“Alright. Were you and Felicity physically intimate while you were at Blue?”

Oliver regarded him evenly before shaking his head. “Are you asking me as a friend?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that I don’t want Felicity hurt in any way. So if you’re going to feel a need to report some sort of medical malpractice, then I will have to inform you that she was on vacation, just like I was, and…”

“Hey,” Digg stopped him mid-sentence. “I’m asking as a friend. Just as a friend.”

Oliver intertwined his fingers on the countertop, squeezing his hands tightly together before he nodded. “Yes, we were physically intimate. We were…quite involved, actually.”

Digg sighed. “Yeah, that’s what I figured.”

“Why would you figure that?”

“Well, aside from the fact that you think you’re in love with a woman you just met, I can tell by the look on your face when you say her name – not to mention how different you’re acting around Sara and Lyla and me – that something pretty damn significant happened between you and Felicity up on that mountain. And if you were together physically, it explains a lot, from a psychiatric perspective.”

“Explains what? What does it explain?”

“There’s a phenomenon that can occur sometimes between patients and therapists, Oliver. It’s called erotic transference.”

“What the hell is that?”

“It’s when a patient assumes an emotional connection to their physician, secondary to the profound interactions that come from therapy. The patient begins to feel a sexual attachment to their caregiver, because that person has fulfilled a significant need in their life. It can be an intense problem under relatively normal circumstances, so I imagine it would be compounded exponentially in the face of an actual physical relationship.”

Oliver’s jaw unhinged. “ _What the fuck, Digg?_ Are you actually suggesting that I developed some sort of schoolboy crush on my teacher?”

“It’s just a thought, Oliver.”

“Well, it’s a horrible thought! I’m a grown man and I’m well aware of what love is! And Felicity was never my doctor. _She was never my doctor_. Just because we were lovers doesn’t mean I’ve got this…this…erotic transference.”

“I’m just letting you know the phenomenon exists. Any psychiatrist worth their salt would know that it’s a potential problem during therapy. And Felicity _is_ a psychiatrist, Oliver. Even if she wasn’t technically your doctor when you two were up on that mountain, I can almost guarantee that she still held herself accountable for your wellbeing.”

Oliver’s mind latched on to the image of Dr. Felicity Smoak then – sitting behind her stately desk today, looking sternly up at him through her glasses. “Oh my God,” he breathed. “That’s what she thinks, isn’t it? She thinks she was acting as my physician, and that I developed emotions for her because of a therapeutic relationship. That’s why she won’t be with me. It’s because she believes I have some sort of psychological syndrome, which means that what I feel for her isn’t real.”

Digg pressed his lips together as he watched Oliver think out loud.

Oliver shook his head. “This is bullshit. I was _never_ her patient up at Blue. We were just two people helping each other out, and during that time I fell in love with her. And you know what? She fell in love with me, too. That woman is in love with me.”

John sighed again, his huge shoulders falling.

“God, please stop looking at me like that, Digg.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re going deeper into psychiatrist-mode. I’ve had plenty of therapy – _with my doctor, Quentin Lance_ – and I’m more aware of what’s going on around me now than I have ever been in my life. I’m telling you that Felicity is in love with me.”

“I’m not telling you she isn’t, Oliver. I just need you to see that you’ve been through a life-changing event these past two weeks, per your own words, and it puts you in a vulnerable place emotionally. What you’re feeling right now may not be the way you’ll feel after you’ve had a chance to step back and see this without your rose-colored glasses on.”

“ _I’m not fucking wearing rose-colored glasses_ ,” he growled.

Digg arched one eyebrow, and then folded his massive arms across his chest.

Oliver raised his hands in front of him, surrendering instantly. “Okay, I realize that was an emotional outburst,” he conceded in a calmer tone. “And yes, I will admit that my feelings are pretty raw at the moment. I’m very aware of that. But the thing is, I _want_ to feel this. I’ve been so closed off, Digg. I haven’t felt much of anything in so long, and I think you know that, which is why you told me to go to Blue in the first place. God, I haven’t felt anything even _resembling_ happiness in as long as I can remember – at least not until two weeks ago, when she walked into my life. And yes, I know I’m emotionally vulnerable right now. And yes, this experience hit me like a ton of bricks. But it doesn’t mean that what I’m feeling isn’t real. It doesn’t mean that this isn’t the right thing for me, or for her.”

Oliver stopped talking for a moment, his eyes closing as he ran those last words over in his head. _That’s what I need to do. I need to make her see that what we have between us is real. I need to show her that the magic we had on that mountain can still exist in the real world. Then maybe she’ll let herself be happy. Maybe she’ll be the freebird I know._

Oliver wasn’t exactly sure how to accomplish that, but he knew he had to figure it out, no matter what it took. Because he needed Felicity to be happy. And he would do anything to make that happen.

Raising his eyes back to his silent, imposing friend, Oliver smiled warmly, from deep in his heart. “Do you remember what you said to me a few years ago, when you told me that love was about finding someone who is the right fit?”

“Yeah, I remember.”

“Well, I found her. No matter what it sounds like, or how quick it happened, or how strange it seems, I know I found her.”

Digg didn’t move, or speak, or even breathe. He just stood there, staring.

Tightening his hands together on the countertop, Oliver took a deep breath in. “God, John, please understand. For the first time in my life, I know exactly what I want and what I need, and I’m not going to let anyone tell me that I have some sort of syndrome, or that my feelings aren’t based in reality. Because they are. I love Felicity.”

Digg’s dark eyes evaluated him, and Oliver stood firmly beneath the scrutiny.

Eventually, Digg spoke. “Look, man, I know you. I know how strong you are. And maybe you’re not experiencing erotic transference at all. Maybe you genuinely feel for her, and it doesn’t have anything to do with being in therapy. But I’m telling you, if you want to convince Felicity of that, you’d better know one-hundred-percent for certain that’s it’s the truth. Because she’s one hell of an intelligent woman, and she’s going to be highly aware of every possible pitfall in your relationship.”

“I love her, John.”

“I get that you believe that. But I’m not the one you have to convince.”

Oliver straightened in his seat, meeting Digg’s intent gaze with his own. “Well then, I’ll convince her. I am going to convince her. I love her. She’s the person I’ve been looking for my whole damn life. I have no doubts. None. She’s the one.”

John continued staring at him for another long minute.

It actually felt like forever.

And finally, after all that time, he nodded and smiled.

“Then go be with her, Oliver.”

...

A/N:  Hello my dears!  Thanks so much for taking the time to read; you are just wonderful!  I would so adore hearing what you think of this!  :)Tina

Up Next...Chapter 14:  Felicity


	14. Felicity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Sweethearts! Thanks so much for coming back, and for the wonderful comments on the last chapter, and for all your support! I must confess that this chapter is obscenely long; I probably should have split it up, but I didn't want to. I hope that's okay. Honestly, I think I've been waiting to write this one since the moment I first put words to paper on this story. I really, truly hope you'll enjoy this :)

Dr. Felicity Smoak sat alone behind the desk in her office, staring blankly at the computer screen in front of her. She knew what she was supposed to be doing; Mrs. Sanderson had just left, and Felicity needed to enter a progress note into her patient’s computer chart. Mrs. Sanderson had been in sessions for almost a year now, since the car accident that left her addicted to prescription medication for her back pain. That pain and that addiction had manifested itself into nearly every aspect of the woman’s life, and she now had trouble seeing the forest for the trees.

Felicity tried to help her see. She tried to show the woman that happiness could still be found in her life. Whenever Mrs. Sanderson presented for therapy, Felicity put a smile on her face. She put on a huge smile, and spoke openly and warmly with this patient, and encouraged her to look for the beauty in the everyday. Mrs. Sanderson responded well to Felicity’s treatment, but still returned for her regularly scheduled appointments like clockwork. The woman simply didn’t feel ready to depart therapy yet. But Felicity knew that was okay, because Mrs. Sanderson was healing. And healing took time.

The computer screen stared back at Felicity while she attempted to compose her thoughts. If she could just manage to write this one last progress note, then she could be done for the day, at least here at the office. But Felicity couldn’t seem to get her thoughts together in quite the right way. Honestly, she hadn’t been able to clarify much of anything for the past two days. Not since Oliver Queen left her office on Monday evening, after swearing he would be back.

It was Wednesday now. Two whole days since she’d seen him. Two days since he’d looked on her for the first time in the real world and insisted that he knew who she was.

Felicity exhaled and closed her laptop. She shifted the computer off of the desk and into its case on the floor beside her, knowing she couldn’t refine her thoughts enough to make an intelligent annotation right now. God, she really needed to get herself together. She had clinic hours to run later tonight, and those patients needed her focus.

But that focus escaped her just now, because all she could think of was Oliver.

Pretty much the entire day had been like this, even if she’d managed to start out the morning in her usual fashion. She’d woken up before dawn, because her internal alarm clock insisted that she did, and showered, and dressed professionally in a peach blouse and black silk skirt. She’d brushed her curls out and secured them to her head in a high ponytail before slipping on her glasses. And then she’d made her way into the kitchen of her modest apartment, and downed about a gallon of coffee, to get her mind going. That, apparently, was where she’d gone wrong. Because the moment her mind started going, it focused in on Oliver Queen and refused to think of anything else.

Turning her chair toward the windowed corner of her office, Felicity stood and stepped over to the floor-to-ceiling glass, taking in the impressive sight of the Queen Consolidated building across the street. She wondered if he was there now. She wondered if he’d forgone his last week of vacation in order to return to work, and if he was staring out of his window at her right now, just as she was staring at him. Her eyes glanced down seventeen floors, to the common area beside the entrance to his building – the marble square with the beautiful fountain and stone seats. And she wondered, for what felt like the thousandth time, how often she’d passed Oliver while walking through that little square. How often had she been within reach of that wonderful, amazing man…yet never met him?

Pressing her glasses up higher on her nose, Felicity dragged her eyes back up to the sky and watched the gray clouds roll in over Starling City. She hugged her arms around herself, because the thin material of her blouse did nothing to keep her warm today. And because she knew she hadn’t felt truly warm since she’d had Oliver’s arms around her, lying in that bed in her cabin.

Felicity knew what she’d been doing when she left Oliver asleep in her bed that night. What happened between them was just too fast. They’d basically been in the middle of an emotional tornado while they were at Blue, complicated in ridiculous proportions by the physical relationship they’d engaged in, and they both needed time to stop spinning. They both needed time to step away, and evaluate their feelings.

Because logically, this kind of attachment couldn’t last. Felicity understood that. These feelings were impulsive and wanton, full of temptation and desire. The way he could make her feel with just a look, with just the simplest of touches, went so far beyond anything she’d experienced with any man, ever. Lust had never been something she was all that familiar with, but Oliver changed that instantly. Her desire for him overcame her sensibilities in just a few short days, and led her into a relationship she’d never intended on when she set out to help him.

Felicity remembered how guilty she felt, the first night she’d crossed the line she couldn’t come back from. She remembered the moment Oliver left her sitting naked on her kitchen countertop and took off down the hall to use her restroom. She remembered pulling her slip and robe back on, and throwing her torn underwear in the trash, and then standing still on the cold wood floor, worrying herself to death over the fact that she’d done something that might harm him – that might harm them both. When he’d returned to her, she asked him if he regretted what they’d done. He said he didn’t. He said he never would.

Over the course of those two weeks at Blue, Felicity grew to understand that she would never regret her time with Oliver, either. She went full circle in such a short time frame: from feeling guilty about the weakness of her desires, to feeling grateful for every moment she had with him. Felicity relished the chance she’d been given on that mountain: the chance to leave the sedate physician behind for a short time and embrace each emotion Oliver drew from her mind and her body and her heart.

Even though she knew it couldn’t last. Even though she knew it was all just a fantasy. Everything at Blue was a fantasy, and not something they could bring home to the real world.

Reaching her fingers up to touch her lips, Felicity recalled a thousand kisses he’d placed there in a matter of days. Her body lit up as she thought of Oliver, and she wasn’t going to chastise herself over that fact. After all, she couldn’t blame her flesh and blood for their innate chemical response to him. What she _could_ blame herself for was the fact that, as she thought of him now, her heart lit up just as much as her body did. Honestly, it probably lit even more. Because despite all the logical protests her mind made against their relationship, Felicity’s heart wanted Oliver to keep the promise he’d made on Monday: the promise to return to her.

Dear Lord, she wanted him back. She wanted nothing more in the world than to be with him again. She wanted his arms around her, his voice in her ear, his warmth soaking into her skin. It had only been four days since he’d made love to her, and only two days since she’d last seen him, but she could already feel the loneliness creeping back into her soul. So fast. Too fast. And her heart begged to have him here, even after she’d insisted that they were better off apart.

Her chest caved in as Felicity considered those words. Damn, she thought it was difficult leaving him alone in that bed after they’d made love, but it was nothing compared to the sheer torture of looking him in the eyes, here in her office, and telling him to let her go. Even though she knew it was the right thing to do.

Because the simple fact was that the emotions at Blue were too strong. His emotions. Her emotions. God, everything there was unusual and delightful and bizarre and enchanting, and just thinking about those days they’d spent together made her feel full and rich and alive. She’d loved every moment she had with Oliver. She’d treasured every touch, every kiss, every shared breath. She’d cherished every second she got to hold him, even when she knew the woman he held in his arms wasn’t who she really was.

Because Oliver’s freebird was a fantasy, just like Blue was a fantasy. And Felicity knew this office – here and now – was real life. Now she just needed to figure out a way to convince her heart of that. She needed her heart to understand that letting Oliver go was, in fact, the right thing to do.

A knock came at the door, making Felicity jump in her black leather heels.

Her eyes darted to the other side of the room, staring at the knob while it turned.

She watched with bated breath for the person to enter the room.

Then her heart sank into her stomach. “Oh…Marie. It’s you.”

“Yes, it’s me. I’m sorry, but I knocked several times. You must not have heard me.”

Felicity smiled at the sweet woman, who was more friend than employee. Although, in the past six months, she’d become more mother than friend. Felicity gave her a reassuring nod. “I’m sorry I didn’t answer you. I was just…thinking.”

“Of course; I’ll leave you to your work. I just came to tell you that I’ll be going home in a few minutes, after I finish up some filing.” Marie stepped farther into the room, holding a wrapped brown rectangular package in one hand. “And I also came to bring you this. It just arrived by courier. The return address says it’s from Oliver Queen.”

Felicity’s eyes widened. “It’s from Oliver?”

“Yes,” Marie verified, tilting her head while she approached. “Are you okay with this, Felicity? Or is this Oliver-person bothering you? Because I could take the package down to Security, to have them open it and…”

“No, Marie, that’s not necessary,” Felicity assured, moving to the other side of her desk and reaching her hand out. “It will be fine.”

“Are you sure? You know how I worry about you.”

“I know you do, and I appreciate it. But I’m fine.”

Marie stilled for a long moment before crinkling her nose. “If you’re certain…”

“I am,” Felicity said, reaching out to take the package from Marie’s hand.

“Well, alright then. I’ll let you know when I leave for the night.”

Felicity gave her a warm smile. “Thank you.”

The older woman nodded before turning on her heels and exiting the room.

The moment the door closed, Felicity returned to the familiarity of her desk chair and sank down into soft leather seat that molded perfectly to her body. She sat very still, staring at the innocent looking package in her hand. And her heart skipped, just a little, at the sight of her name written in what she assumed was Oliver’s handwriting.

She ran her fingers over the smooth surface of the package before easing one edge open and pulling the contents out. Felicity held her breath as she looked down. And then her brow crinkled when she realized Oliver had sent her…a book.

 _A Field Guide to North American Birds_.

Felicity knew this book; she had a very old and well-used copy of it at home. But this was the newest edition, and perfectly colorful, and she stared at it for a good, long while. Eventually, with trembling hands, she opened the front cover. There was an inscription inside, also in Oliver’s bold script. She traced over the words with her fingertips as she read:

 

_For Felicity, my favorite birdwatcher_

_Reality is what we make it_

_Yours, Oliver_

Felicity stared at the words, and read them again and again, turning them over in her mind. And then she noticed a book marker stuck almost all the way into the back of the thick volume. Opening to the designated page, she pulled out the placeholder. It was a photograph of the morning sky – with gorgeous, fiery reds radiating out from the brimming sun. She smiled softly at the picture, and then turned her eyes back to the book.

Nestled there in the pages, under the letter _Y_ , was a picture of a purple bird with a yellow crest on its head. Felicity stared at the photo, amazed by the realistic look of what she knew was a computer-edited image. She tugged a bit on the page, realizing that it had been placed expertly inside the book binding, to blend in seamlessly with all the other pages. Her eyes drifted then, from the picture to the caption beneath it: The Yellow-Crowned Purple Fantini.

The air caught in chest as she focused on the description that followed.

 

_The yellow-crowned purple fantini is a rare species discovered by noted avian enthusiast Dr. Felicity Smoak of Starling City, Virginia. After years and years of searching, Dr. Smoak finally found her bird in the Blue Ridge Mountains. The fantini has a deep purple body and a large, bright yellow cap of feathers that rise above its head when it’s angry. The bird also has a loud voice when it’s really mad, and at first glance can appear quite crazy, especially when performing its signature dance moves that make it look rather chicken-like. But upon deeper inspection, the bird is actually soft, and tender, and loyal, and loving, and brave._

_The fantini is now known to be one of the rarest creatures in the entire world, and the most beautiful, inside and out. It can most often be found deep in the woods, among the tallest oaks and the littlest pine trees. The fantini’s favorite activity is to hop through tree branches, perching among the leaves and pecking its way into all the little cracks and crevices in the bark._

_If you happen to see this amazing bird – if you’re fortunate enough to catch sight of it – whatever you do, please don’t attempt to lock it in a cage. Because this bird won’t survive behind bars. This bird needs to be free to live and explore and dream. This bird needs to fly._

The book trembled as Felicity held it with two shaky hands. Blinking away the moisture forming behind her glasses, her eyes returned to the top of the page and took it all in again. She read the passage over and over, and stared long and hard at the bookmark photograph: the perfect red morning sky that promised a joyful new day.

Eventually, her gaze darted to the two little leaves she kept on the corner of her desk.

Felicity reached for both leaves, taking the stems in her fingers and twirling them together for a moment. Green with red and red with green. She hadn’t been able to appreciate the red leaf, that day she’d pulled it from her hair under Oliver’s watchful eye. She’d _wanted_ to appreciate it, but she couldn’t. Not until a few days later, when Oliver gave the color back to her. He spoke just a few words – just a few beautiful, perfect words about fires and hearts and morning skies – and she had the color red back in her life.

Oliver was a poet. Felicity told him that, the night he gave red back to her. He was a poet and an artist, in the arms of his freebird.

 _My frolicking freebird_ – that’s what Oliver had called her when he stood here, in her office, two days ago. _She was the woman I was with the most up there on that mountain_ , he’d said. And he was right about that; Felicity was free when she was with him.

She felt almost completely free with Oliver, and part of the reason for that was because she’d been allowing herself the luxury of freedom for the first time in forever. But the other part – the part she never saw coming – was that Oliver pulled the free spirit right out of her. He elicited a response in her that defied her explanations and tore down her logic.

Everything about Oliver called to her on some primal level, and allowed her to release all of her pent-up needs and wants and desires. He’d erased years of loneliness with just the touch of his fingers to her face, and so she’d let herself be with that man. She’d let herself have him, and let herself be free with him, for every precious moment that she could. And she still wanted that. She wanted to cling to those wondrous sensations, and stay right by his side, for each second of the rest of her life.

But Felicity knew that wasn’t reasonable. She knew that was the selfish part of her talking. The selfish, possessive, wanton woman who’d nearly risked all of Oliver’s emotional and psychological progress by confessing that night at the restaurant – confessing that she was in fact a doctor, and that she’d lied to him about it from the moment she met him, and that she wanted them to be together despite the million obstacles preventing it.

The raw selfishness of her desires nearly drove her to crush his trust in her as she stared at him across that table, and the fact that she’d come so close to doing just that was downright shameful. Oliver’s freebird wanted nothing more than to be with him. But it was the sensible, logical physician who made the decision to leave him up on that mountain.

Felicity knew exactly what the freebird in her wanted, and also what the doctor insisted on. But she couldn’t be sure which woman broke down on the way home from Blissful Blue. She didn’t know if it was the freebird or the physician who’d started crying the moment she snuck out from under Oliver’s warm, heavy arm as it lay across her bare hip. She wasn’t sure who’d sobbed through every second of writing him that letter, or who’d barely been able to see the dark, pre-dawn road as she drove back down the mountain.

She only knew that it was the doctor who had pulled everything together once she’d arrived back in Starling. It was Dr. Smoak who’d made Felicity get herself in line, and unpack her bags, and attempt to sleep, and wake on Monday morning to dress and come to work. It was Dr. Smoak who’d smiled at Marie, and who’d replied that her vacation was restful when asked, and who’d forced herself back into her office chair, and assumed the proper demeanor, in order to start seeing patients again.

And it was definitely Dr. Smoak who’d told Oliver, right here in her office, that they were better off apart, and that he needed to let her go. Felicity knew it was the doctor inside her who’d said those words, because Oliver’s freebird was screaming and clawing at her the entire time: begging to stay with him, begging to touch him, begging to wrap herself around him and never let go.

The doctor inside her won that day. The doctor won because she needed to – because it was the right thing to do for him. Oliver needed time. He’d been through so much up on that mountain, and now he was open and exposed and raw. Because she’d made him that way. Because she’d forced him to take a hard, defining look at his life, in a way he never had before. And now Felicity knew that what Oliver needed was… _time_.

Time to himself. Time away from Blue, and from her. Time to heal.

So Felicity looked back to the book, and laid the two little leaves inside the page, alongside her fantini bird. Then she pressed the book closed, trapping everything inside. Because as much as she wanted to live there, among those beautiful thoughts and beautiful words, she knew they belonged in a fantasy world that didn’t exist here in this office.

“I already told you _no_!” Marie shouted, her voice coming from the other side of the door.

Felicity stood from her chair with the distressed sound. “Marie?”

“Do _not_ go in there, Mr. Que…”

“I promise it’s alright, Marie,” Oliver answered as he forced open the door to Felicity’s office, still looking behind him, into the older woman’s eyes, while stepping inside.

“No, it’s not alright, _Mr. Queen_ ,” Marie insisted, following on his heels. “She has no further appointments today, and _you_ are just…”

“Marie! Oliver!” Felicity barked, attempting to pull their attentions from each other.

Both people stopped cold in their tracks. And then Oliver turned his gaze to Felicity. He caught her eyes with his own, and stared straight into her.

Felicity forgot to breathe. She just plain forgot, because here he stood: as powerful and tempting and strong and beautiful and intense as ever. She gripped onto the book in her hand, needing the support as her knees buckled.

Marie folded her arms across her chest. “I tried to stop him, Dr. Smoak, but he wouldn’t take _no_ for an answer. Please just say the word, and I will be happy to call Security _right now_ and have him _removed_ from this office.”

Oliver’s blue eyes penetrated Felicity’s from across the room, the intense gaze gripping onto her immediately, as it always did. Felicity could feel her body physically pulling toward his, even from this distance, and she had trouble producing words. “N-no, Marie, that’s alright. I will see what Mr. Queen has to say.”

“But he has a briefcase with him, and he refused to open it for me to examine the contents before he came _barging_ in here.”

Felicity glanced down for the first time since he’d arrived, and watched Oliver’s knuckles whiten against the handle of the case he carried. When her eyes rose back to his, he shook his head just slightly, with a daring smile playing against his lips. “She doesn’t need to see what’s inside the briefcase, Felicity.”

Marie huffed. “Do you want me to call Security now, Dr. Smoak?”

Felicity stared at Oliver for another long moment, the calm determination in his eyes simultaneously lulling and enticing her. “You don’t need to do that, Marie. Everything will be fine here.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. Thank you for your concern, but I promise I’m okay. You can leave us now.”

Marie didn’t move for several more seconds. She just stood there, side-eyeing Oliver. Finally, she pivoted on her heels. “I will be waiting _right outside this door_ ,” she emphasized with another glare in his direction before shutting the thick mahogany wood hard behind her.

Marie actually managed to make the door slam, which Felicity had never heard before. The sound echoed through the room, reminding her that she was alone with him now. Alone again, with this man she’d come to need in ways that bordered on unnatural. Ways that were definitely unnatural for Dr. Felicity Smoak.

She straightened her spine as she met his intense stare across the span of the room. “What are you doing here, Oliver?”

He shrugged beneath his tailored black sport coat, the movement shifting the white button-down shirt he wore beneath. The shirt was undone at the collar, revealing the hollow at the base of his neck that she’d pressed so many kisses to. “I told you I’d be back. So here I am.”

Felicity’s eyes fell to the briefcase he held in his hand. It wasn’t a typical business case, with metal locks to either side. This one was made entirely of leather, with a thick, detailed strap holding it shut. “That’s a very handsome briefcase.”

“Do you like it? I just bought it yesterday.”

Her gaze darted back to his. “Just yesterday?”

“Yes.”

“Care to tell me what’s in it?”

Oliver gave her a little smile. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Because we’ll get to that later…if we need to.” He angled his face to the door then, looking behind him to the space Marie had just occupied. “I swear to you, I will find a way to get that woman to like me,” he insisted, just before turning back to meet Felicity’s eyes again. “I realize she doesn’t right now, and I can’t blame her, seeing as we got off to a bit of a rough start. But I will win Marie over; I promise I will.”

Felicity smiled despite herself. “I don’t doubt that you can.”

He returned her smile with that dangerous-yet-delightful curve of his lips she’d seen so many times, and Felicity set the book down on her desktop so she could grasp the wood edge in both hands. God, he was intimidating. He always had been, from the first moment she saw him. Not in a bad way. Just in the way that entranced her completely, and made it impossible for her to take her eyes off of him. Oliver intimidated the hell out of her, because she could feel that freebird inside her, clawing at her to get to him.

Oliver watched her watching him. Eventually, he loosened the fierce grip he had on his briefcase handle. Glancing down to her desktop, he stared at the book for a moment before returning his gaze to her face. “I see you got the gift I sent.”

“Yes, I did. It’s…lovely. Thank you.”

“I’m glad you like it; I was really hoping you would. Although I can’t take all the credit. My head IT guy, Curtis, helped me out. Turns out he’s quite the romantic. When I told him I needed to make a gift for my girlfriend, he jumped all over it. Started telling me about how his husband left his wedding ring in a seashell while they were scuba diving.”

Felicity’s pulse leapt with his words, because she couldn’t believe Oliver was walking around town, telling people she’d never met that she was his girlfriend. She didn’t really know how she was supposed to feel about that. She only knew that she should probably feel more upset by it than she did.

Oliver began to move then. He started toward her, walking across the floor with purposeful, determined strides. As he approached her desk, Felicity stepped backwards. She didn’t have a choice in the matter. Because she knew that the closer she was to him, the less chance she had at logical thought. So she put as much space between them as she could.

By the time Oliver made his way around her desk – to occupy the same spot Felicity had just a moment ago – she’d backed herself several yards away, into the corner by her office restroom. “Oliver, the gift was very sweet, but…”

“Curtis did the picture,” he said, cutting off her words. “And he also figured out how to attach the page inside the book. I didn’t know enough to make it look that good. But I promise you all the words were mine. I want you to know that I wrote them for you.”

Her shoulders fell as she looked into his hopeful face. “They were beautiful words.”

“Well, you told me once that I was a poet. And I am. But only when I’m with you.”

Felicity’s lower lip quivered while she watched him, and she bit against it to stop the movement. Oliver’s gaze drew to her mouth, and then back to her eyes, before he pivoted toward her desk. He reached for the book, to push it to the corner of her desktop. After clearing the surface, he set his briefcase down on the wood, right in the center. Then he turned back to look at her again.

“So, how have you been, Felicity?”

Her brow rose. “How have I been?”

“Since Monday, I mean. That’s when I saw you last.” Oliver raised one hand, raking it through his cropped hair, and Felicity had to bite back a whimper as her fingers twitched at her sides, desiring nothing more than bury themselves into that hair.

“Damn, was it just Monday that I was here in your office?” he questioned, his eyes finding hers again. “It doesn’t feel like that to me; it feels longer. Does it feel like it’s been a lot longer than two days since we were together?”

Felicity pressed her mouth shut, knowing she shouldn’t admit to that truth.

“Honestly, it feels like forever to me,” Oliver continued in her silence. “I remember that one time up at Blue, when I was away from you for all of 36 hours, and it felt like an eternity. I guess I haven’t learned yet how to be without you for more than two days at a time. I suppose I’ll have to work on that. Maybe I’ll even figure out a way to go for a whole week without you, once we’ve been married for thirty or forty years.”

An involuntary gasp left her throat when she registered his words. Felicity reached up to her glasses, pushing them hard against her face. And then her hands trembled uncontrollably while they fell back to her sides.

Oliver’s eyes narrowed on hers. He stared into her, deep and hard, and his next words came out even. And smooth. And precise. “I think you know that I want to be with you, Felicity. I believe I’ve made that fact abundantly clear. But just in case you have any doubts, I want to erase them right now. Because I need you to understand, with utmost certainty, that I want to be with you. In every way. From here on out. Period.”

She opened her mouth to speak – to respond in some way – but nothing would come out.

“You do understand that, don’t you?” he questioned, maintaining his unwavering stare.

Felicity did understand that fact. She knew, without a doubt, that Oliver wanted them to be together. And his certainty, in a situation that was so very uncertain, caused her even more alarm.

She tried like hell to compose herself beneath the scrutiny of his gaze, and the hellish perfection of his words. She brushed down the creased sides of her skirt against her thighs, and shifted her stance inside her high heels. And then she forced a deep pull of air into her lungs, just prior to squaring her shoulders and looking back to his eyes. “Oliver, I understand your wishes. I just don’t know that they’re realistic.”

He stood in front of her desk, looking at her, absorbing her words. For a long time, he didn’t move at all. He just studied her, studied every nervous movement she made. Eventually, after what felt like an eternity, he relaxed his stance, and pressed his hands inside the pockets of his black pants, and sighed. “I know you have arguments to make. I know you have reservations about us being together. Honestly, I’ve thought long and hard about all of the protests you could possibly offer me. And as best I can tell, there are two major obstacles to our relationship.”

He turned away from her fully then, for the first time since he’d entered the office. He stepped toward the windows in the corner opposite her, putting more space between them. Space Felicity knew she needed, even if she didn’t necessarily want it.

“Only _two_ obstacles?”

Oliver looked out of the floor-to-ceiling glass, taking in the view of Starling City, and of his own building. He took a deep breath in, which shifted his broad shoulders beneath his coat. The simple movement pulled a whimper from her throat.

“I said two _major_ obstacles,” he clarified. “I know there are more, but I’ve focused in on these because I believe, if we can overcome these two things, then the rest of your potential protests will just fall into line.”

Oliver glanced back to her. The side of his face was highlighted in the natural light coming from the window, even with the grayness of the sky. She fixated on the strength of his features as he spoke again.

“I want to tell you what these two things are, Felicity. Will you let me do that?”

The gentleness of his plea pulled at her heartstrings, and she nodded.

Oliver closed his eyes for a moment, and smiled softly to himself, before looking back to her. “The first is that you think I don’t know you. You think, because I didn’t know you were a doctor when we were at Blue, it means I don’t know who you really are.”

Felicity’s chest tightened with the painful truth of those words, and she forced herself to exhale. “And the second thing?”

Oliver held her gaze solidly. “You don’t believe that my feelings for you are real. You think I’m suffering from a psychological syndrome called erotic transference.”

Her eyes widened behind her glasses. “Where did you hear that term?”

“From Digg.”

“You…you spoke to John about me?”

“Yes. I asked him about you. I asked him to tell me what he knew, to give me any information he could about you. He wouldn’t, of course. He would never break your confidence like that. But I did go to talk to him, after our meeting here Monday, because he’s my best friend. And because I felt pretty desperate at the time, and I needed his advice.”

“I’m glad you have John to talk to,” she sighed, because she understood how difficult that meeting was on Monday, for Oliver and for her.

“I’m glad, too. And I’m happier than ever that he’s a psychiatrist, because he mentioned this syndrome to me – this _erotic transference_ – and that gave me the opportunity to research it.”

Her brow rose. “You researched it?”

“Yes. I’m a businessman, Felicity. I research things so I’ll have all the facts, so I can arm myself with the proper tools for battle. And after speaking with Digg, I knew you were going to come at me with this particular protest, so I needed to know what I would be up against when I came here today. I actually did quite a lot of research over the past couple of days, and I will admit that I can see how this particular syndrome would be a concern of yours.”

She leaned forward, pulling toward him. “Can you really see that, Oliver?”

“I can. I can see that you’ve convinced yourself that I suffer from erotic transference, based on a patient-physician relationship. You believe that our relationship at Blue was therapeutic in nature, because you are occasionally a physician there and I was a patient. And because you held yourself responsible for my wellbeing, even if you weren’t being paid to do so. So you’re afraid that my feelings for you now are based on a reaction to therapy, and therefore are not based in reality.” Oliver paused, looking hard into her eyes. “That’s all true, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “That’s all true.”

He nodded. “Good. I mean, not _good_ that you think that way, but _good_ that you admit it’s a concern of yours. Because I’m here to tell you it shouldn’t be. I understand how you could arrive at that conclusion, but there is one flaw in your theory. One beautiful, magnificent flaw.”

“What is that?”

“I never saw you as a doctor. Erotic transference comes out of a patient-physician relationship, and I can’t have that particular syndrome if I never saw you as my doctor. And I swear to you, on my life, that it never once crossed my mind. Not once, the entire time we were together. You were my friend up on that mountain, Felicity. And you were my lover.” Oliver hung on that last word, running his fingers across his eyelids before glancing briefly to the ground. “God knows you were my lover,” he breathed. “But you were never my doctor. Not the way I saw it. Not the way I _see_ it.”

Her chest constricted while he spoke, and Felicity worked to take in air. Because a huge part of her wanted to just give in, to just say that he was right and that everything between them was fine and perfect and would all work out the way they both wanted it to. But she knew she couldn’t do that. “Alright, Oliver. I will admit that, technically, erotic transference occurs between a patient and a physician in a therapeutic setting, and you never knew I was a physician. But I think you can still see that things moved pretty fast between us up on that mountain. You can see that, right?”

He looked back to her, his jaw clenching tight for several seconds. But then he nodded.

Felicity’s shoulders fell. “So then don’t you think that maybe, just _maybe_ , your feelings for me are a reaction to the fact that you’re finally in tune with the emotions you’ve repressed since high school? And that the therapy you received at Blue – whether it was from me or from Dr. Lance – is the reason you feel that way?”

Oliver shook his head. “I know what you’re trying to get me to say. You want me to admit that I was basically your patient at Blue, which means that my feelings for you are a side effect of therapy, and are therefore inherently false. And you know what? I’ll agree with part of your argument…I’ll admit that you opened a floodgate of emotion in me. You helped me dig up all the happiness and joy and spontaneity that I’d buried, and now I feel things deeper than ever. But I’m not some kid playing with a new toy here. I’ve known what I’ve wanted for years; I just never knew how to achieve it. But now I do. And yes, you helped me figure out how to feel everything again. But that doesn’t mean my feelings are baseless, or wrong. It just means that I finally understand them. And that’s a good thing, isn’t it? Isn’t that a good thing?”

She didn’t answer. She couldn’t answer – not in the way she was supposed to. So she stood silently, just watching him.

Oliver observed her for a long while before turning back toward the window, glancing to the street. “Have you ever been down there, to the outdoor square by the fountain, Felicity?”

She smiled to herself. “Yes, I have. Sometimes I go there to eat my lunch.”

“I do too, on occasion. You know, you told me when I was here Monday that you were amazed by how the stars aligned for us to meet up on that mountain. And the more I thought about it, the more I was amazed, too. I mean, how many times must we have passed each other on the street here in Starling? How many times did we eat lunch together, sitting by that fountain? How many times have we stood right beside each other, so completely unaware of everything that we could be?”

He didn’t wait for her to answer. He just shook his head in response to his own thoughts. “It frustrated me like hell over the past couple of days, to think about all of those missed opportunities. And I asked myself why it took a squirrel darting out in front of my car on a deserted mountain road in order for me to find you. I thought a lot about that question, and the thing is…I believe I know the answer now.”

“What is it?”

Oliver looked back to her, pinning her beneath an intent blue stare. “It’s because that was the moment I needed to find you. And that was the moment you needed to be found.”

Her pulse skittered with his words, her breaths coming stiff and shallow to her lungs.

Oliver glanced to her unsteady chest for a moment before looking back to her face. “You know, I’ve done a lot of things in the past two days, Felicity. But mostly I’ve thought. I’ve thought about you, and about every word you ever said to me, and everything I’ve watched you do, and all the things I’ve learned about you from the people in your life. I’ve thought about you from the moment I woke until the moment I slept, and I’ve come to the conclusion – absolutely, one-hundred-percent, for certain – that I found you up on that mountain. I found the _real_ you. I know you, Felicity Smoak. I know you inside and out. And because I know you, I already know what you’re thinking about all this.”

Felicity stared at him as he spoke, unable to tear her gaze away. “You do?”

“Yes. You’re thinking I couldn’t understand who you are after only being with you for two weeks of vacation. And that I couldn’t possibly have known the real you up on that mountain, since I never knew you were a doctor.” Oliver paused for a moment, his brow rising as he studied her. “That is what you’re thinking, isn’t it?”

She couldn’t help smiling. “Pretty much.”

Oliver returned her smile. “Well, I’m going to prove you wrong. Because right now, I’m going to tell you all about yourself.”

One of her eyebrows quirked up. “You’re going to tell me…about _me_?”

“Yes. And I want you to listen. I want you to just stand there, and really listen to what I have to say. And if, when I’m done, you can tell me – in all honesty – that I’m wrong, and that I don’t know who you are in your soul, then I promise you I will walk out of that door and never come back.” He stopped speaking to take a deep, shuddered breath in, and his fingers trembled at his sides when he continued. “I promise I will never try to see you again. Or call you. Or contact you, in any way. And if I accidentally pass you on the street, I promise I will turn my head, and look the other way, and pretend that I never knew you at all. I swear I will.”

Tears accosted her eyes, and her stomach pushed acid into her throat. Felicity blinked back the salty sting and swallowed hard. She couldn’t respond, because every fiber of her being refused to acknowledge the possibility of him fulfilling that promise. Because just the thought of him treating her like a stranger left a deep, dark, hollow ache in her tender heart.

Oliver fisted his hands, obviously working to quell their trembling, as he struggled to continue speaking. “S-so Felicity…will you listen to me tell you who you are?”

Still at a loss for words, all she could do was nod.

Oliver returned the nod, and gave her another soft smile, before turning his gaze back to the window. Then he took a deep inhale and released it slowly, allowing his shoulders to fall beneath his jacket. He spent another moment composing himself, just before he started telling her the story of her life.

“You were a really happy child,” he began, looking out to the gray clouds hovering over the city. “You had two parents who loved you dearly, although each in their own way. You had a free-spirited mother who loved you by teaching you all the beauty in life, and taking you into the woods for adventures – a nurturing woman who encouraged you to appreciate all the little things life has to offer. And you had a stern, intellectual father, who loved you by pushing you to strive for everything you could achieve with your mind, and who taught you by example that a life lived in the service of medicine and humanity was the noblest profession. You had two wonderful, loving parents, who showed you two paths for your life. But your mother and father were a little too different from each other, and they weren’t able to teach you how to wind those two paths together.”

The tears returned to her eyes, fresher and hotter now, and Felicity fought them back again as she glued her gaze to the profile of Oliver’s face.

“But you did grow up happy,” he continued speaking to the gray clouds, “and you remained very innocent, even as you got older, because you spent so much time wandering with your Girl Scouts in the forest, and giggling with your best friend Caitlin, and talking to plants. You stayed innocent right into college…innocent enough to ingest a pot brownie without your knowledge, because you thought brownies served at college drinking parties were made with Betty Crocker recipes.”

Felicity laughed, because she couldn’t help it, and Oliver turned his gaze to hers for a moment. He smiled at her – a soft, tender smile that she felt across every known surface of her skin. She took a moment to appreciate the beauty of that smile, but then pressed her lips together again, because she knew she was supposed to be quiet while he spoke. Oliver glanced briefly to her sealed mouth, and then turned back to the window with the smile still on his face.

“You were a happy, innocent college student, and you babbled a lot. You babbled because your over-powered brain thought too much all at once, and the words tumbled out whenever you felt stressed or excited or nervous. Which was a lot, I would imagine, because college is challenging for normal people, but it would be especially challenging for someone like you, who felt the need to achieve all of these degrees and honors you have framed on the wall here in your office. So you sought out therapy, because you wanted to fix this babbling thing – the thing your mother probably thought was adorable, but your father probably saw as a hindrance to your success. I imagine the idea for therapy came to you after a particularly riveting Psych 101 class in your freshman year.”

“Professor Price,” she chirped.

Oliver sucked in a sharp breath as he looked back to her. His entire body stilled while he pinned her with his eyes. And then he stood, silent and stern, just studying her.

Felicity’s fingers twitched at her sides. “Sorry,” she offered, nibbling against her lip. “I know I’m supposed to just be listening right now, but Professor Price’s face kind of popped into my head. Price Psych – that’s what we called his class. He looked like Julius Caesar, minus the leaves over his ears. But I know that’s not currently important. And now I’m going to be quiet again.”

A slow grin pulled up the corners of Oliver’s mouth. “You can talk during this if you want to, Felicity. Just as long as you don’t argue with me.”

Her brow rose of its own volition at the barely veiled command, but then she settled herself and nodded again.

“So you entered into therapy,” he surmised, diverting his gaze back to the gray sky, “in an attempt to control your magnificently wandering mind. And while you were in therapy, you began to see what those physicians could do. You began to see what it meant to devote yourself to helping people. You started to understand the decisions your father made about how he spent his life, and you started to think your mother didn’t know what she was talking about when she told you to be wild and carefree. And you were already painfully aware of your significant level of intelligence, because how could you not be? So you took a deep, acute look at your life, and you decided to grow up. You decided to devote your life to the service of others, and you went from college to medical school, and you grew up fast and hard.”

When Oliver paused his speech to look back to her, Felicity’s heart beat a mile a minute. He watched her for a few stretched seconds and then said, “I imagine you discovered your latex allergy during medical school.”

“God, that’s true. It was awful. There was so much rubber everywhere.”

Oliver regarded her for a long moment before chuckling.

Felicity replayed the words in her head and her face grew hot. “Just so we’re clear, I meant rubber as in _gloves_.” Her eyes widened. “And by that I meant gloves for your _hands_. There were a lot of hand-gloves. Not other-body-part gloves. There weren’t that many of those. Some. But not many. And, you know, I’m just allergic to all of them, so…” Her words trailed off as she watched Oliver’s eyes glimmer, and she pressed her lips shut once again.

“That brings me to the next chapter of your life. The boyfriends,” he said, turning back to the window. “You had a few over the years, but only assholes who didn’t even give you more than one orgasm. And then you met Ray, who was a cardiac surgeon, just like your father. You probably found him shortly after you graduated medical school, and I imagine Dr. Ray What’s-His-Name seemed like a perfect match for Dr. Felicity Smoak. I imagine that relationship made sense at the time, and you might have even convinced yourself that you were happy. Happy enough to say ‘yes’ when Ray asked you to marry him.

“In your mind, life was as it should be then. You were engaged to a proper doctor. You were helping people, just like your father wanted, and your mother certainly wasn’t ashamed of you. How could she be, when you were using your brilliant brain to help so many people? But then something happened, and it shook your entire world. Something happened that forced you to take a severe look at your supremely structured life.”

Felicity paid rapt attention while she listened to Oliver speak, as if she were hearing the tale of someone else’s life, even though she’d lived every moment of this story. “What happened?” she questioned, stilling herself while Oliver turned to look at her once again.

“Your father died,” he said, his face falling with the words. “He died right on his desk at work, and no one found him until the next morning.” Oliver’s eyes drifted over to Felicity’s desktop. “I imagine you’ve slept on this desk a time or two. I imagine even Marie couldn’t get you to leave here some nights, when the workload was too heavy.”

She swallowed hard, trying to force down the truth of those words.

Oliver’s gaze returned to hers. “This is where things in your life began to break down. This is where your identity crisis began, because somewhere on the path of dealing with the emotions surrounding your father’s death, you began to examine your own life as a doctor. You knew you were good at being a psychiatrist, because you had a gift: you had the ability to become whatever your patients needed you to be, in order to earn their trust. For Pete, you became a missing daughter. For Tommy, you became a pillar of normalcy. For Roy, you became a stable home. You just became whatever anyone needed, the moment they needed it. Because you could look into them so easily, to see what they needed. And you knew if you met those needs, and earned their trust, then they would let you delve into their darkest secrets and fears.

“You were so good at opening people up, probably from the instant you set your mind to practicing psychiatry. But then this horrible thing happened to your father, and there you were, seeing how he lived and died for his work. And you were engaged to a man just like him – a fiancée who, frankly, bored you to tears. Because Ray didn’t know the real you. How could he? You never let him see that bright, boundless girl you’d been, once upon a time. And you filled so many roles for so many people in your daily life that you knew Ray couldn’t possibly know the real you, because no one ever could. Not truly. So you broke off your engagement.

“And then you were alone – with no father, and no fiancée, and a somewhat-estranged mother who picked up the pieces of her life and moved to Las Vegas. You were alone, and neck-deep in a job where you felt like you had to lose yourself, day after day. But you told yourself that it was okay, because you were helping people. You were making a real difference in the lives of others, and that made everything worth it. So you went home every night, alone and so lonely, and you buried yourself in distractions like movies, because they were an easy escape from reality.”

Oliver stopped to catch a breath, but Felicity couldn’t. She felt like she couldn’t breathe at all, because his words ran so hot and painful beneath her skin and she wanted nothing more than to crawl out of it. And then Oliver looked back to her, with his gaze as impassioned as his voice, and she held perfectly still while she listened.

“But there was a little part of you still, Felicity – a frolicking little bird inside – begging to be free. That part of you wanted to live. That part of you wanted to fly. It was _that_ woman who listened as some of her female patients talked about how they’d never been able to have an orgasm, and you felt good about the fact that you could. But then you also had to sit and listen to your sex-addicted patients go on and on about their various exploits, in great detail. You kept a straight face through those sessions, for their sakes. You never let on that those words bothered you. But you were curious. Curious about what it would be like to blindfold a man, and tie him up, and do anything you felt like doing. You were also curious to know what it felt like to be tied up yourself. Not that you would ever act on your fantasies. No, you wouldn’t ever do that. Because the stoic, sedate doctor you’d become wouldn’t allow such a thing.

“So you repressed all your wants and your desires. You buried everything deep inside of you, and concentrated on being the person you had to be – the person who had to be strong, in order to support everyone around her. And you kept going to work every day, and making a real difference for people. You volunteered at your clinic, and you helped out your community. And even though you went home alone every night, you told yourself your life was rich in a lot of ways…and that’s true; I’m not saying it’s not. I’ve seen firsthand some of the people you’ve helped, and I know how they all rely on you. I’m sure that’s a rich feeling, to know you can give people what they need to live a better life.”

Oliver stopped then. He stopped talking, and his hands fisted at his sides. He took a sharp breath in, his shoulders tightening beneath his coat. “But then, something else happened,” he said, the words barely above a whisper. “Something that shook you to your soul, and it…it took the color red away from you.” He turned to her, looking to her face with tears in his eyes, and her heart squeezed tight in her chest, nearly suffocating her. “This thing hurt you. It hurt you so deeply, Felicity. It was violent and angry and bloody, and it hurt you in the worst way. And I don’t know what it was. I’ll admit to you that I don’t know what it was. But the only reason I don’t know is because you haven’t told me. Yet.”

Felicity shook her head, fighting the tears in her eyes. But they won over her protests, and fell slowly down her cheeks from behind the frames of her glasses. She looked to the plants beside her – the ones that ran the length of the wall – as she struggled to hold in the pain. When she finally found the courage to look back to Oliver, he stared intently into her brimming eyes.

“I hope someday you will,” he breathed. “I hope you’ll share this event in your life with me, because I know it affected you profoundly, so I want you to tell me about it. And maybe I won’t be able to help you with it. Maybe I won’t have any good words of advice. Hell, I’m almost certain that I won’t, because I’m not a psychiatrist, and honestly I’m really just learning how to embrace my own emotions. But there is…there is something I know I _can_ do for you.”

She sniffled, trying to clear the tears in order to speak. “Wh-what’s that?”

“I can listen. If nothing else, I can listen to you, and I can be there for you. Because I want that. I want to be there for you. I want it so badly.”

God, those words were beautiful. They were so beautiful, and Felicity wanted to hold onto them. She wanted to hold them tight to her chest and never let go. And it was all she could do to stand here, so far away from him, as he trembled beneath his coat. It took every ounce of strength she had to not run to him, and throw her arms around his neck, and cling to him in sheer, utter desperation.

“Whatever this thing was,” Oliver continued speaking, his deep voice cracking just a little, “I believe it’s the reason you finally realized that you needed a vacation from your life. Because you said you felt weak and beaten when you went to Blue, and you said you had to beg Lance to allow you to go there, to take that journey.”

Felicity nodded. She didn’t even realize she was doing it, until she saw Oliver looking her over, taking in her silent confirmation of his words. Then the muscle in his jaw twitched.

“I’ve got to be honest with you, Felicity; I’m actually pretty pissed off at Dr. Lance, for making you beg like that. You shouldn’t have had to do that. He should have let you be at Blue on your own terms, and he should have let you go to whatever functions you wanted to go to, and to get any therapy you needed. Because I don’t think you got any therapy when you were there. I think you spent all your days wandering alone in the woods, and all your nights with me, and even though I know you’re an amazing physician, I think you would have benefited from actual sessions with another doctor.”

Oliver’s head tilted while he watched her. “Digg is worried about you, you know. When I told him that you were on vacation with me at Blue, he got so concerned…I could read it all over his face. And even though he wouldn’t tell me what you’d spoken about with him in the past, when I took the time to think about it all, I realized something. While you treat people with addictions – sex addicts like Tommy, and work addicts like me – John treats a lot of soldiers and police officers. I know he specializes in posttraumatic stress, and that made me realize that you probably went to him because of the trauma you suffered from this event you lived through.”

Felicity smiled softly as she brushed at the wetness on her skin. “John is a good listener.”

“He is. And so are you.” Oliver turned to her then, finally turned his whole body toward her, his eyes intent on her face. “I know you spend every day of your life listening to people talk. And I can’t even imagine all the things they say – I can’t imagine all of the burdens they unload onto your shoulders. And I know that’s what your job entails; I know it’s what you signed up for. But I also know it has to create a lot of stress. And I know you went to Blue to find your roots, and your happiness, and to recharge your soul, because the problems facing you here in the real world had become too much to bear.

“I know you spent your first week there seeing patients, because you’d promised Lance you would, and you spent your evenings that week wandering in the woods, trying to find some sense of peace, and reconnect with the Girl Scout inside you. Then, on the last day before you started your vacation, you gave a lecture to all the patients at Blue. You spoke to them about appreciation – about searching out and loving all the little things in life – because that’s what you were trying to remember how to do. And the very next day, you went for your walk in the woods, and you got a little lost, and you came out farther down the road than you normally would have. That’s when you saw me. You saw me crouched down and grumbling by my tire.”

Oliver’s brow furrowed. “I’d like to think, at the moment when you first laid eyes on me, that a part of you – even a small part – thought about leaving me there, and turning back into the woods. I’d like to think there was a selfish part of you that didn’t want to help me. I’d like to think that you have some sense of self-preservation, somewhere, that would prevent you from poking a big, growly grizzly bear with a stick. But I know that’s not the case. I know you didn’t think twice when you saw me. You just came to help.”

He stared into her. “I know you told me, the last time I stood here in this office, that entering into a relationship with me was a selfish decision for you to make. But that’s not true.”

Her lips fell open, her eyes widening behind her glasses. “ _What_? How can you even say that? Being with you at Blue might be the most selfish thing I’ve ever done in my life. Ever.”

Oliver shook his head. “No. It wasn’t selfish at all.”

Felicity opened her mouth to protest, but he took one step toward her, and fastened her with his eyes, and she silenced immediately.

“The selfish thing would have been for you to leave me there,” Oliver insisted. “The selfish thing would have been for you to take one look at me, and pivot on your heels, and return to the woods. The selfish thing would have been for you to turn your back on me, Felicity – to turn your back on someone who desperately needed help. But you would never do that, because that’s not who you are. You’re a loving, kind, giving person, and you would never turn away from someone in need. So you walked over to me, and smiled your beautiful smile, and looked straight inside me. You saw that I was struggling and suffering, from that first moment, and so you made the decision to change my life for the better.

“And you did – you changed my life. You did it unconventionally, at least from my point of view. You lied to me, and you challenged me, and you forced me to appreciate the beauty of the world around me. And you opened me up. God, you opened me so quickly that I barely even knew it was happening. But I’m so grateful you did, baby. I’m grateful you opened me…but I’m even _more_ grateful that you _opened up_ to me.

“Because you did that, too. You didn’t open up about the fact that you were a doctor – and I understand why you didn’t tell me, and I swear it’s not an issue for me at all anymore. But you _did_ let me see you. You let me see the free little bird flying around inside you, and you let me see the innocent girl who desperately wanted to explore her sexuality, and you let me see the solemn woman who struggled to keep her head above water. You let me see all of you Felicity, and I think I might be the only person in your whole life who has ever really seen you. I think I might be the only person in the whole damn world who knows _every part_ of you.”  

Oliver stopped speaking then. He stopped, and he took two steps toward her, closing some of the distance between them. “Am I right about that?” he asked, his voice breaking on the words. “Am I right to think that I know you? Or do I need to keep the promise I made, and walk out of that door now, and never see you again?”

Felicity’s heart stopped cold in her chest, the repulsive thought of him walking away sending ice cold shivers raking across her skin. There was no way in hell that she could ever make herself tell the lie that would force him to leave, because even the thought of it slayed her. So instead, she took a deep breath and looked him in the eye and spoke the truth. “You’re right about everything, Oliver.”

His jaw dropped open. “You – you admit that I know you?”

She nodded slowly. “Yes. I admit that you know me.”

With those words, Oliver’s shoulders relaxed instantly, falling steeply beneath his jacket. Felicity heard him whisper something that sounded like a prayer before he looked back to her with renewed determination. “Well, good. So now I assume it’s safe for me to say that you have no further protests against our relationship, and we can move on with our lives together?”

Her heart fell into her stomach. “Oliver, you know I can’t say that.”

“Why not?”

She shook her head, and her fingers trembled against her thighs, as she looked into him from across the room. “Because things are more complicated than that.”

“What things? What’s left that makes this complicated?”

“Well, for one, there’s still the matter of Dr. Lance finding out about us.”

“You were on vacation, Felicity.”

“Yes, but I don’t think that will matter to him. You were a patient, and I am a doctor.”

Oliver shrugged. “Then he never needs to know that our paths crossed at Blue. We’ll just make up a story about how we met. Honestly, my family thinks I’ve been in Cozumel for the last two weeks with friends from work, and work thinks I’ve been mountain climbing with my parents, so I’ll need to think of something to tell everyone anyway. All I told Curtis when he helped me with your book yesterday was that my trip was cancelled. So now I’m thinking we can tell the people here in Starling that we met by the fountain in the square outside, and that I was so enamored the moment I laid eyes on you that I decided to cancel my vacation just to spend time getting to know you.”

Felicity’s lips pulled up with his words, but the smile fell just as quickly as it came. “That’s a lovely story. But making things up to tell people about how we met means we’re lying. It means we’re keeping secrets, and I’m really tired of keeping secrets. Believe it or not, that’s really not how I want to start off a relationship.”

“Well, I would prefer not to do it this way, either. But unfortunately, I think it’s necessary. I don’t want our relationship to ever hurt your career, so I don’t want to risk Lance discovering the truth. Instead, we’ll make up a good story about how we met, and we’ll keep the real story a secret.” He paused, looking deep into her. “I think it’s okay to keep secrets _with_ each other, Felicity. As long as we don’t keep secrets _from_ each other.”

Oliver smiled then, gentle and brilliant and pure, and Felicity shook her head, astonished by the way he saw everything. “This…this is all just so simple for you, isn’t it, Oliver?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean this – us – everything. You don’t see the complications of it, do you?”

“I don’t, actually. I know you see a ton of obstacles right now, but I don’t see any. Because my feelings for you are crystal clear, and I have no doubts about them. So yes, this is simple for me. And I want it to be simple for you, too.”

She clasped her hands in front of her, worrying her fingers against each other. “But I just…I don’t know that I can be the person you want me to be. I don’t know that I can be your frolicking freebird here in the real world, because I _am_ a doctor. You know I was questioning that when I went to Blue – you know I was questioning everything. But up on that mountain, you helped me realize that I will never truly be myself, or be truly happy, unless I’m here, taking care of my patients. Because this is who I am.”

He took another step toward her. “Okay, Felicity. You can be whoever you want to be. I’m not asking you to leave your patients. I’m just asking you to be with me, too.”

“But Oliver…”

“No. Don’t ‘but Oliver’ me. You keep trying to tell me that you’re not the same person I knew on that mountain, but that’s just not true. You’re as much the frolicking freebird as you are the solemnly sedate Dr. Smoak. You’ve just never tried to be both women at the same time.”

“You’re right; I haven’t. Because that won’t work, Oliver. I have to be this person – to put all of my heart and soul into this work – because people count on me with their lives. I can’t let them down.”

“So don’t. Be a doctor, Felicity. Be a straight-laced, hard-ass, obsessive-compulsive doctor while you’re in this office, if you think that works best. But then leave here at the end of the day and come home to me. Come home and be my freebird. Because I need her. I need her so damn much.”

Felicity blinked back the moisture in her eyes.

A tender smile pulled up Oliver’s lips. “Or you can stay the hard-ass doctor all the time, if you want. She challenges me, and I love that.” He paused for a moment, shifting his body closer to hers. “Or you could try to do something completely different: you could try to be both women at the same time. Because you still helped me, even when you were being the frolicking freebird. So I think you can be her, and still be a doctor. I think you can be both women at once. God knows that would be ideal for me…but I realize it’s your choice. And I want you to know that if you decide you can’t be the freebird here in this office, I think that’s okay. Because everyone has to wear a mask sometimes.”

“You think I wear a mask?”

“I know you wear a mask. You wear a lot of masks, so you can be whoever your patients need you to be. I wear a mask, too, you know.  I put it on when I go to work, and I make myself brave and strong for the sake of all those people, even if I don’t always feel that way.”

“But you _are_ brave and strong, Oliver.”

“And so are you. I know you feel vulnerable right now, but just because we’re standing here now – vulnerable as hell with each other – it doesn’t mean we’re weak. If anything, I think it makes us even stronger.”

Felicity whimpered with his words, her arms banding around her stomach as she attempted to physically hold herself together. Because the ache inside of her was potent, and powerful, and pervasive, and she didn’t know how much longer she could stand here and argue with him. Especially when she wanted nothing more than to give in to their desire to be together, no matter how much her logical brain resisted it.

Oliver stared down at her hands for a long minute. Then he raised his head back to her eyes. “You know, I’ve come to realize that I owe you an apology.”

Her brow furrowed. “For what?”

“Do you remember that day in the woods, when I told you what happened with Carrie?”

“Of course I remember,” she breathed, her heart squeezing itself raw against her ribs.

“Well, after I told you what happened with her, you said so many things to me. You tried to get me to understand the impact that experience had on my life, especially with the decisions I’d made with work. Honestly, I couldn’t process much of anything at that point in time, except anger. I was angry with you, because I thought there was no way in hell that a frolicking freebird could possibly understand what it meant to hold the lives of so many people in their hands, like I do. But I was so wrong; I was so terribly wrong. Because you truly hold lives in your hands, and I understand that now.

“You said a lot of things to me that day, Felicity. You said I was putting all of myself into my work. You said I was giving my whole life to my employees. You said I was giving everything, and leaving nothing for myself, and that it was killing me. And you were right; I was doing all of those things. I just barely understood your words at the time you said them.   But what I can see now, so plainly and starkly, is that you weren’t just talking to me that day. You were also talking to yourself. Because you’re doing the same thing now that I was doing before. You’re giving all of yourself to your work – you’re giving all of yourself to your patients – and you’re not going to be able to breathe like that for much longer.”

Oliver exhaled sharply. “You’ve never allowed yourself a full life of happiness as an adult, and that just…that just kills me. It kills me to see you here, suffocating. Because you are. This life is suffocating you, and I’m so goddamn scared that you won’t be able to get through it.”

She shook her head, over and over. “No, Oliver. I _can_ do it. I _can_ get through it.”

He shoved a hand roughly through his hair, gritting his teeth as he looked into her. “Okay, yes. You told me that you’re stronger than you look, and that you aren’t made of glass. You told me you’re not easily broken, and I know it’s true. I know you can _get through_ anything. But…are you going to be happy? Are you going to be happy just getting through life? Because you deserve to be happy, baby. You deserve that.”

The tears ran down her face again, salty and burning, and Felicity took several minutes to steady herself. She took the time to get herself under control, and when she could finally stop the tears from flowing, when she could finally wipe them away and catch her breath, she looked back to him. Oliver’s shoulders were tight, his fingers balled, his entire body humming with energy. She could see that he was struggling to stay where he was, that he was working hard to keep himself still and not come over to hold her while she cried. She appreciated that. She appreciated that he was giving her some space. But she knew that what she needed – what they _both_ needed – was even more space.

After smoothing her fingers over her cheeks a few more times, and making sure her skin was dry, Felicity settled her arms back to her sides. She stood tall and straight, and put a little smile on her lips. Then she looked into his eyes, focusing on his deep blue from across the room.

“Everything you’ve said to me today has been wonderful, Oliver,” she began, keeping her voice calm and soft and even. “Your words are beautiful, and I appreciate all of them; I swear I do. And you know I want to be with you. I can’t hide that fact, and I don’t really want to. But I don’t know if I can do what you’re asking me to do – I don’t know if I can be the doctor _and_ the freebird. And even if I could try to do that, do you really think that now is the best time? We both went through so much, up there on that mountain. We’re both emotionally raw. Please tell me you can see that.”

Oliver stood, rigid and determined, but he did nod his head. “Yes, I can see that.”

“Then please understand that I’m not contradicting you because I _want_ to. I don’t want to fight this thing between us. But I have to. Because _now_ is not the time for us to enter into a long-term relationship.” She stopped speaking for a second, just to inhale and exhale, as the words churned her stomach.

“Maybe it won’t have to be this way forever,” she offered in solace. “Maybe someday, after you and I have both had time to ourselves, we could find our way back to each other. I’ll even admit that I would really like for us to be able to do that, at some point. But I don’t think that this moment – here and now – is the time or the place for us.”

Oliver listened to everything she had to say.

Felicity knew he listened, because the muscle in his jaw worked overtime with the words she knew he didn’t want to hear.

When Oliver finished listening to her, he huffed out a breath. “Well, frankly, I don’t agree with any of that, Felicity. I don’t see any reason to wait for this, and I sure as hell don’t want to put our life together on hold, hoping we _might_ find our way back to each other someday. We’ve spent years passing each other on the street, never knowing what _could_ be. But now that I know – now that I’m certain of what _can_ be – I refuse to let it just slip through my fingers.”

She groaned in frustration. “Oliver, please try to understand me. Please see that I’m trying to do the right thing here.”

“Who in the hell says it’s the right thing? And why do we even care about what anyone else thinks is right? You and I are both adults, and we can do whatever we want to do.”

“But that’s the thing…this isn’t about what we _want_. This is about what we _need_. We need time to heal. We _both_ need time to _heal_.”

Oliver stilled, his eyes locking onto hers for the longest time. Then his shoulders fell on a sigh. “Why can’t we heal together?”

The tears pricked at her eyes again. “Because it…it doesn’t work that way.”

“But who says it doesn’t? Some old professor? Some psychology book? Or you? Because I know you’ve been on your own for a long time, and you’ve felt alone for even longer, but that doesn’t mean you have to handle all of this on your own anymore. Because I’m here now. I’m right here with you.”

She closed her eyes with that assurance, with the beauty of those words. She ran them over and over in her mind, holding onto to them for as long as she could. But then Felicity heard Oliver take several more steps toward her, and she refocused on him. He stood so much closer to her now. He was back in front of her desk again, and he stared right into her, his blue as intense as ever.

“I can tell you, Felicity, one-hundred-percent for certain, that I am going to heal better with you by my side,” he vowed, fingers trembling at his sides. “And I honestly believe that you are going to heal better with me by your side.”

Her head shook, back and forth, while she worked to keep the reasonable portion of her brain functioning. “No, Oliver, it’s not…”

He threw his hands up in the air. “God, just stop! _Stop_ , please. I don’t want to hear the end of that sentence.”

Oliver started pacing then, back and forth in front of her desk. Felicity clenched her teeth together as she watched him, because he looked like a caged animal, with heat and hunger and frustration roiling off his skin. She remembered now why she’d given him his color: hunter green. The man before her was definitely a hunter. He was skillful and intelligent and predatory. He was strong and primal and powerful, and she’d known other people in her life just like him. She’d actually treated many of them – both men and women – and she’d had years of schooling and experience to help her manage turbulent situations with challenging individuals.

So Felicity knew what she _should_ do, at this point in time. She knew she should set defined limits with Oliver, and insist that there was no argument to be made here. Because there was only one answer. And that answer was to step away from each other.

But even though Felicity understood that she needed to put on her mask of stoicism, and give him firm boundaries, she struggled to actually do it. Because as powerful a man as Oliver obviously was, he didn’t look that way now. Right now, he looked trapped. And haunted. And scared.   His emotions were all over the place – just _everywhere_ – and Felicity knew it was her fault. All of this was her fault.

“I’m…I’m sorry, Oliver,” she breathed, her heart reaching out to him while he continued moving restlessly across the floor.

“ _No_ ,” he barked. “I don’t want to hear any more apologies, either.” Oliver stopped pacing then. He stopped and stood in front of her desk, staring her down. “Good Lord, you’re stubborn, aren’t you? I already knew you were stubborn, but…damn. You’re _so_ stubborn.”

“This isn’t about being stubborn. This is about doing what’s right.”

The muscle in his jaw twitched again as he stared at her. His entire body thrummed with energy, coming at her in waves across the space that separated them. Every nerve in Felicity’s body heightened in response while she watched him take several deep breaths, working to steady himself in front of her desk.

“I know you’re trying to do the right thing here,” he admitted finally, his voice steady again, even if he was unable to mask his frustration. “I get that you want to do what’s best for me; I really do. And I appreciate it. But the thing is, I know that _you_ are what’s best for me. And I know that _I_ am what’s best for you. So you’ll just have to forgive me if I don’t buy into the thought that walking away from you is the right thing to do. For either of us.”

Her fingers trembled with those words, and Felicity struggled to keep a brave front. She straightened her spine, and pressed her shoulders back, and lifted her chin, as she returned his intent gaze. Even though her gelatinous legs barely held her upright.

“Well, I hope you’ll reconsider that thought, Oliver.”

He stared the words out of her mouth. And then he exhaled slowly, his shoulders falling while he shook his head. He watched her for the longest time, just looking her over from head to toe. Felicity knew Oliver could see the rigidity of her body, and the determination of her will, and she hoped it would be enough to convince him of the point she was trying to make. Because this – this pull they had to each other – this level of emotion between them – was way too out of control. The feelings he had for her, and the feelings she had for him, weren’t realistic for two people who’d only known each other for a handful of days. She needed him to see that. She needed him to understand.

Oliver just stared at her for the longest time, as she held herself firm beneath his scrutiny. It felt like days passed while he studied her. And then, finally, his expression changed. His gaze fell to the ground, and his hands unclenched, and his body calmed. Felicity felt her lip quiver, because she realized that Oliver finally looked…resolved. He wasn’t challenging her anymore. Not right now. And that made her happy – to think that she’d gotten through to him, and that he was going to accept the truth, and that he was going to allow them both the time and space they needed – even if the thought of him walking away from her stabbed like a sword through her gut.

When Oliver eventually raised his head back up, and looked to her face again, Felicity could see just how resolved he was. So she held her breath when he opened his mouth, preparing herself to hear one single statement: _I’m going to leave now, Felicity._

She was ready to hear that. She really was. No matter how much it would hurt.

But that wasn’t what came out of his mouth.

Instead, Oliver stared her straight in the eye and said, “I really tried to give you a choice in this. I hope you can see that.”

Her brow furrowed immediately with the unexpected words, and Felicity watched in confusion as he pivoted himself toward her desk.

“Oliver, what are you talking about?”

He shook his head while he reached for his briefcase. “Now I’m just going to have to do this the hard way.”

Felicity’s entire body stiffened. “ _The hard way?_ ” she echoed, her eyes widening behind her glasses. “What’s the _hard_ way?”

Oliver grasped the briefcase with both hands and undid the leather strap that held it shut. “Well, the thing is, I came here for a very specific reason today, Felicity. I want something from you. And I’ve tried using romance, and I’ve tried using logic, and neither of those has gotten me what I want. So now I’m left with only one other option.”

“Wait…what do you mean you tried romance and logic? And what’s the other option?”

“I tried romance on our first date, in the town at the bottom of Blissful Blue,” he explained while flipping the leather strap open onto her desk. “I tried to show you how good we could be together. And at the end of our date, we made love and you fell asleep in my arms, and I thought it was a pretty fucking perfect day. But you still weren’t with me when I woke up the next morning, so I know that romance isn’t going to get me this particular thing that I want. And I have also tried to reason with you – the last time I was here in this office, as well as just now – but that obviously hasn’t worked for me, either.”

Oliver pulled open the briefcase lid. “Don’t worry,” he assured as he looked down at the contents that Felicity couldn’t see from this angle. “I promise I will try to be reasonable in other situations. And I promise there will be plenty of romance in the future. Just not right now.”

She cringed with his words. Dear Lord, this man was resolved, all right. But this wasn’t the kind of resolution she’d expected. This wasn’t a man who was going to passively leave her office. There was an entirely different kind of certainty emanating from his skin, and she could feel it even across the distance she’d maintained between them.

Felicity’s mouth ran dry, and she had to lick her lips to speak. “W-well, Oliver, if you want something from me, then why don’t you tell me what it is, and we’ll discuss it.”

“No. I’m not going to discuss anything. I’m done trying to talk this out rationally.”

“What are you saying? Are you saying you plan to be irrational?”

“I wouldn’t say I’m going to be irrational,” he replied, turning his face to hers. “I’m just going to use another approach to get what I want.” Oliver stared the words into her eyes before he looked back to the desktop again.

Felicity held her breath as he began pulling items from the case, and she lifted up on her tiptoes, attempting to get a peek at what lay inside the mysterious bag. But Oliver was just too damn tall and broad, and she couldn’t see anything at all around his massive back. Her heart pounded in her throat as he worked. And then, finally, he set three things down on the edge of the desk closest to her.

Her entire body focused in on them. “Are those…are those _scarves_?” she asked, settling back into her high heels when he turned to look at her.

“Yes.”

“You bought me scarves?”

“I did, actually. I chose a red one and a green one, and a blue one, too. The colors seemed fitting, given our history. I think they’re pretty – especially the red one with the little roses on it – although I must admit that I don’t know how good my taste is. I wish Thea had been home from Paris; I would have taken her out shopping with me. But I had to do it myself, so I hope you like them.”

“Well, they’re lovely, but why did you bring them here?”

Oliver didn’t answer her. He just fixed her blue eyes with his own, and allowed a little smile to pull at the corner of his lips. And then Felicity’s face blanched, because the only time they’d done anything with a scarf was when she’d blindfolded him with one. Except that Oliver had _three_ scarves now, and she wasn’t sure what he intended to do to her with _all_ of them.

He stepped away from the briefcase then, and grabbed hold of her leather desk chair, and pushed it away to the far wall. When he turned around to move back to the desk, Oliver stared lasciviously at her. His eyes raked over her body – from her feet all the way up to her face – and the look in his deep blue was flat-out _feral_. Felicity stepped back on instinct, crowding her spine onto the washroom door behind her, her shoulder blades flattening onto the cold wood surface.

Oliver maintained his intent gaze on her all the way back to her desk. Then he reached down, to take the green scarf into one of his large hands. He caressed the fabric for a moment, pressing it between his fingertips, while he continued staring at her.

The simple realization hit her hard, and Felicity gasped.

_Good God, he’s going to tie me up. He’s got three scarves, and he’s going to use them all to tie me up. Oh frack._

Oliver chuckled a bit under his breath, and Felicity prayed she hadn’t said those words out loud. But she wasn’t sure if she had or hadn’t. And all she could do was watch in mortification while Oliver reached back into the briefcase again.

He pulled out another object, and laid it beside the scarves.

This item was a red plastic egg.

Felicity tilted her head.

 _An egg_?

“What is that, Oliver? Is that what I think it is?”

“Depends on what you think it is, I suppose.”

“It looks like silly putty. I remember, from when I was a kid, that it always came inside a plastic egg.”

“You’re right; it’s silly putty.”

The air caught in her throat as she looked up to the side of his face. “Dear Lord, Oliver, what are you planning to do to me with silly putty?”

He chuckled before turning his gaze back to hers. “Nothing. I was just out shopping yesterday, and I stopped by a toy store to pick up some gifts for Sara, and I saw this. I remembered you saying it was one of the two handiest things on earth – along with rope, of course – so I thought you might like to have some.”

“Oh.” She couldn’t help the smile that spread her lips. “Well, thank you. I think it’s sweet that you remember me talking about how handy it is.”

“Of course I remember. What else can you squish between your fingers _and_ copy a cartoon with?”

Felicity shook her head. “Do you actually remember _everything_ I ever said to you?”

“I do remember everything you ever said to me,” he assured. Then his voice lowered, turning heated as he fixed her with a penetrating gaze. “But do _you_ remember what _I_ said the handiest thing on earth is?”

She worked to breathe. “Y-you said…duct tape.”

A deliciously evil grin turned up the edges of his lips. “That’s right. I did say duct tape.”

Oliver didn’t take his eyes off of her as he reached back into the briefcase and grasped hold of a thick roll of the gray tape. He brought it to his chest, holding it in both hands while he observed her closely. His fingers played with the starting edge.

Felicity whimpered. “What are you going to do with that?”

“What do you think I’m going to do with it?”

“I don’t know…tape my mouth shut?”

He laughed, his shoulders shaking beneath his expertly tailored jacket. “I would never do that; I love your voice too much. And your mouth in general. I definitely want to maintain access to it.”

Oliver turned back to her desk, holding the tape roll in one hand as he began opening and shutting the desk drawers with his other hand, obviously searching for something.

“What are you looking for, Oliver?”

“Scissors. You do have scissors in here, don’t you? I knew I’d never be able to get through the security metal detectors downstairs with them, and I couldn’t risk those burly men opening the briefcase. And you can rip duct tape with your teeth, but the taste is quite unpleasant. Although not quite as bad as pure lemon juice, of course. You must have scissors in here somewhere…ah yes, here we go.”

Oliver pulled his find from the bottom drawer on the left, where the scissors were lined up perfectly beside her stapler, hole punch, and paper clips. His brow rose. “This is…a highly organized drawer, Dr. Smoak.”

She pressed her lips together when he glanced back to her. He gave her a little smile, and then set the scissors and the roll of duct tape down beside each other, and then walked around to the opposite side of her desk. Felicity felt her body pulling toward him as he moved farther away from her. “Now what are you doing?”

He didn’t answer her right away. First, he reached for the lapels of his jacket, and eased the material off his shoulders, shrugging it down his arms before folding it up and laying it on the side of her couch. Next, he undid the buttons on his shirt cuffs and took the time to roll each sleeve up to the top of his forearms. Felicity tried with all her might to not moan at the sight of his muscles moving beneath his skin as he worked.

Oliver answered her question then. “I’m doing what needs to be done,” he stated, the words making the little hairs on the back of her neck rise up beneath her ponytail.

Felicity held perfectly still when he began his next task – which was, apparently, to rearrange the furniture in her office. Oliver grasped two of the wood-slatted chairs she had sitting in front her desk, one in each hand. He lifted them easily, even though she knew they weighed quite a bit, and she watched his biceps tense beneath his shirt as he brought the chairs around to her side of the desk. Oliver stood in the space where her leather chair would normally go, and he set the two wood chairs down on the floor, with their backs up against her desktop, one to either side of his hips.

She frowned as she watched him, trying to figure out what he was doing. Why would he set two chairs a body-length away from each other like that? Did he want her to sit on one of them? Was he going to sit on the other one? That didn’t make much sense. Not if he intended to tie her up. But why did he put the chairs there, beside his legs?

The light bulb lit over her head then, and Felicity’s heart flipped inside her chest.

_Oh my God, he’s going to have me sit on the desktop between the chairs. And he’s going to make me put my feet in them, and he’s going to tie my legs open, and…oh, hell._

Oliver settled the chairs into place, and then reached for the duct tape.

“Um, O-Oliver, I…”

Felicity was silenced by the screeching sound of tape being stripped away from the roll, and she watched in near shock as he used her scissors to cut off one extremely long section.

“Do you intend to use that piece of tape on me?”

He peeled off a second strip, just as long as the first. “I do, actually,” he confirmed. And then he stopped what he was doing. He ceased all his actions, and turned his face to hers.

Oliver fixed her with a hard stare. “I’m about to be very demanding with you, Felicity.”

The words stole the air from her lungs. The look in his eyes sent shivers down her spine. Not shivers of distress, or fear. God help her, these were shivers of anticipation. And she shouldn’t have them. She _shouldn’t_. “What do you mean by _demanding_?”

“I mean that I’m going to use your body against you, in order to get what I want. Because we both know that I can.”

“Oliver. You know that’s not fair.”

“Yes, I do know. But I have no intention of playing fair anymore. Not today.”

She huffed, and he turned away, back to the desktop and the long strips of tape.

Felicity took a shaky breath in. “That…that tape looks… _really_ painful.”

“It doesn’t have to be painful,” he assured, placing both pieces together, one on top of the other, so the adhesive sides clung together. “See that? Now it’s not even sticky. It’s not painful at all. It’s just a really good form of binding.”

“Binding?”

“Yes,” he said, glancing in her direction and smiling before tearing off another piece. “You know, I got worried yesterday, when I was devising this back-up plan, that you might have a reaction to duct tape, because of your latex allergy. So I researched it online. Did you know that there is an American Latex Allergy Association? Interesting website, really. They have lists of everything that has latex in it. And I’m fairly certain you shouldn’t have a reaction to the outside of the tape, but I did bring extra scarves to protect your skin, just to be safe.”

Felicity watched him tear off a fourth long piece of tape and stick it to the third one, once again concealing the adhesive inside. Her heart banged wildly against her ribcage. “Oliver, please…we don’t need to do all of this. Just tell me what this thing is that you want from me.”

He lifted the two completed strips of binding in his hands, pulling on them to test their strength, before setting them back on the desktop. “Oh, I don’t want much, really. It’s honestly a simple little thing that I’m going to ask you for. But I want it, and I’m going to get it.”

“Can’t you just tell me what it is?”

“No. Not yet.” Oliver placed the roll of tape back into his briefcase, and closed the leather strap, and set the case onto the floor. He moved the scissors and the silly putty off to the corner of the table, beside her book. Then he turned his entire body toward hers, straightening his spine as he focused all his energy back on her.

“I’m ready for you now, Felicity. Will you please come here?”

Her mouth ran dry when she saw the look in his eyes – the deep, raw, piercing look in that gorgeous blue – and her head shook, without her even realizing it.

Oliver smiled in response to her silent denial. “You must know that I’m not really asking. If you don’t come over here, I will come get you. I’m just trying to offer a façade of politeness, for your sake.”

“O-Oliver…”

“You’re going to come over here now, Felicity, and stand by this desk like I’ve asked. You’re going to let me tie you up, because you’re curious about it, and because deep down you know you want me to do it. You also know that your body wants to be close to mine, and that you want me to touch you. And I will. I am going to touch you, and I promise you it will feel very good when I do.”

Felicity sucked in a breath with his words, and struggled to square her shoulders as she responded. “I – I know perfectly well what you’re doing right now, Oliver.”

“And what is that?”

“You’re telling me what is going to happen between us, and how I’m going to feel about it, so that I’m more likely to submit passively to your plans as you carry them out.”

He quirked up an eyebrow. “Is it working?”

“That’s…that’s beside the point, and I think…”

“Felicity?”

“Yes?”

“Will you please stop thinking for five seconds and just come over here?”

She planted her feet firmly on the ground. “No. I will not.”

Oliver smiled devilishly. “Come here. _Now_.”

She pressed her mouth closed, hard, her brow arching above her glasses as she held him in place with an indomitable glare. The glare finally made the smile fall from his lips. Then Oliver took a deep breath in and spoke to her in an even, reasonable tone.

“Look…I know you have a strong will, Felicity. And you know that I do, too. I am fully aware that your will and my will are going to have issues for the rest of our lives. And honestly, I’m looking forward to all the times they’re going to clash. But today, I am going to win this battle of wills, no matter what. In fact, to say that I’m _irrevocably determined_ to win would be a wild understatement. I am going to get what I want, by any means necessary.”

“By any means necessary?”

“Yes. Because the way I see it, you have two options right now. You can either come over here like I’ve asked, or you can yell for Marie to call Security. Because the only way I’m leaving here – without getting what I want – is if those gigantic guards charge up seventeen stories, and barge into this room, and drag me away, kicking and screaming. And I do mean _literally_ kicking and screaming. I’ll probably get a good punch or two in on them, as they struggle to forcibly remove me from your presence. Honestly, I’ll resist them so hard that they’ll have no choice but to haul my belligerent ass off to jail.

“God, I can just see the headlines now, Felicity: _Billionaire CEO Oliver Queen slammed behind bars after being physically dragged from a local psychiatrist’s office_. Damn…all that awful publicity, after I’ve spent my entire adult life trying to stay out of the tabloids, and under the radar, for the wellbeing of my company and all of its employees. I bet the Queen Consolidated stocks will take a significant hit when that story breaks tonight.”

Oliver’s brow furrowed as his entire body focused on hers. “Falling stock prices in this economy could be devastating for so many people inside that building you see from your window every day. I think it would be a real shame to put the livelihood of all those families in jeopardy. Don’t you, Felicity?”

The question hung in the air for a good minute while she glared at him from across the room. Oliver stood straight, and stiff, and determined, and Felicity wondered if there was any chance in hell that he was bluffing.

“You know I’m serious,” he said. Which made her wonder if he’d read her mind, or if she was talking out loud. Although she was fairly certain she hadn’t said a word, because her throat felt entirely constricted.

Felicity stared at him for another long minute. Then she huffed out a breath. “This is so not fair, Oliver.”

“Already told you – not playing fair today.”

He pushed the sleeves of his shirt up a little higher before crossing his arms in front of his chest, which gave a definition to his forearm muscles that she should _not_ have noticed. Oliver tilted his chin down, and narrowed his eyes. “Come over here, Felicity. I won’t ask again.”

She knew she didn’t really have a say in the matter right now. She knew she had to walk over to him, because he wasn’t giving her a choice. But she still resisted, because the thought of this went against every one of her senses as a physician. And also because, as she stood beneath the intense scrutiny of his deep blue eyes, she couldn’t be sure if her legs would actually carry her that far.

Oliver started to move then, and Felicity knew he was coming to get her, so she raised both hands in front of her to stop him. “Wait. I’m coming. Just…just give me a second.”

He smiled as he resettled himself.

Felicity’s foot wobbled a bit in her heel when she took the first step toward him. But she still held her head high as she walked, balling her fists to hide the tremble in her fingers. When she arrived at the edge of the desk, she stopped.

Oliver still watched her, only more closely now, his body just a foot away from hers. Felicity’s heart lodged itself somewhere in her throat while she looked up to him. She swallowed hard against the sensation.

His eyes darted to the column of her neck for a moment before he stepped to his side and swept his arm out in an invitation. “Come stand here between the chairs,” he instructed with a strength that was far too riveting. “Stand facing me, with your back to the desk. Please.”

Felicity did as she was told, backing herself up to the desk until she could feel the wood against her skirt-clad bottom. She grasped the desktop edges in her fingertips, desperate for some semblance of stability, and then pressed her shoulders back, attempting a veil of defiance. “I don’t know why you’re bothering to say _please_ at this point.”

Oliver chuckled when he turned to face her. “Well, I was trying to maintain a sense of decorum. But I’ll be happy to stop, if that’s what you want.” He took two steps forward, erasing nearly all remaining space between them, so only inches separated their bodies. This was the closest he’d come to her since he walked into the room today, and Felicity immediately drowned in the heat of his body as it permeated the air around her.

He didn’t touch her. Not at all. He just stood there, smiling down into her eyes. And then he asked, “How are you feeling right now?”

“ _Feeling_? Are you actually asking me how I’m _feeling_ , Oliver?”

“Yes, I am. Because I imagine you’re feeling all kinds of things. Emotions are messy, aren’t they?”

She struggled to inhale against his sweltering heat. “You’re right; emotions are messy. And acting on them isn’t necessarily a good thi…”

He cut off her words with a simple action. It wasn’t even a kiss, as he’d used to silence her in the past. No, this time all he had to do was lean forward. He closed his eyes, and pressed their foreheads together, and breathed in deep, and Felicity lost her words.

“God, you smell good,” he whispered against her skin. “I’m so used to your scent. And the warmth of your body…I’ve grown so used to your warmth. It’s only been a few days since I had you beneath me in your bed in the cabin, but I’ve barely been able to sleep since. I just miss feeling your skin on mine. I miss all of you.”

He put his hands on the desk then, in the space between her hips and her own hands, and she inhaled sharply. She wanted to say something, but then he grazed his mouth across hers, a feather-light touch, and she only managed a whimper.

“Have you missed me, Felicity? Has your body ached for mine?”

She groaned, and bit into her lip, trying like hell not to give in to this.

Oliver lifted his head from hers, to stare down into her eyes. “Answer me. _Please_.”

Felicity couldn’t think straight. Not with him looking at her that way. Like he could devour her whole, right this instant. Her fingers shook against the wood desktop, right next to his. “Y-yes,” she whispered.

A wicked grin pulled at his lips. “I’m sorry; I didn’t quite hear that. Can you repeat it?”

She huffed. “Yes, Oliver. Yes, I’ve missed you.”

“Good. I’m glad you missed me. But is there anything else?”

“Anything else?”

Oliver lifted one hand, reaching behind her head to grasp onto her ponytail while maintaining his rapt gaze on hers. “Have you _ached_ for me? Did you lie in bed last night and wish beyond reason that I was there with you, touching you and kissing you and making love to you? Is that what happened in those dark hours?” He curled his fingers around her hair tie while he smiled down into her eyes. “Or maybe you didn’t imagine me making love to you; maybe you imagined me fucking you. Maybe you wanted to fulfill more of your repressed fantasies. Maybe, as you lay there in your cold bed, you imagined me fucking you in the shower, like we never got to do up on the mountain. And maybe you had to touch yourself right then, just to feel some relief. Because you didn’t have me with you, to help release all that sexual energy. Because you knew, if I was there, that I would touch you everywhere, and taste every inch of you. You knew, if I was there, that I would…”

“Oliver, _please_ ,” she breathed, her voice breaking as she panted. “Please stop.”

He pulled down on the hair tie, slowly and surely, until it fell to the desk. The loose gold strands fell to her shoulders, and he hummed his approval at the sight. “Stop what, Felicity?”

“ _This_. Stop this, please. You know it’s not fair to use my attraction for you against me.”

“You’re right; it isn’t. But then again, I’ve heard that all is fair in love and war.” He inched closer, so his warm breath brushed against her skin. “I need you to do something for me right now.”

“Wh-what?”

“I need you to lift your skirt.”

 _Good God, he actually intends to go through with this_. “No, that’s not…”

“Lift your skirt, Felicity.”

“I need you to be reasonable right now, Oliver. This is my office. My _office_. Marie is right outside those doors, and they do not lock, by the way, and this isn’t…”

“Lift. Your. Skirt. Now.”

Her nipples tightened involuntarily and she groaned. “Y-you know I can’t give in to this. You’re supposed to be working on your control issues, and…”

“Sometimes you like my control issues,” he reminded her, rubbing his nose beside hers, his lips skimming close to her mouth. “In fact, I distinctly remember you telling me that you want me to be my controlling, demanding self when we’re together.”

“I told you that up at Blue. Not here.”

“And yet here we are, back in the real world, and you still want me. I can see that so clearly. Your pupils are blown, and your body is trembling, and your breaths are coming so fast and so shallow. You’re just aching to feel me inside you, aren’t you, Felicity?”

His lips ghosted over hers again, just briefly, and she closed her eyes and shuddered. “You know I am. You know I want you. That’s never been in question.”

Oliver smiled against her skin. “Good. Because we’re back in the real world now, and a lot of things are different, but I’m going to prove to you that nothing has changed between _us_. I still want you, and you still want me, and I’m still going to fuck the hell out of you. The only difference is that today, we’re going to be on the desk in your office.”

He skimmed his lips across her mouth, light and feathery, and Felicity nearly toppled over while straining to get more pressure, more contact. He chuckled when she caught herself. She struggled to straighten in front of him before meeting his gaze again.

Felicity frowned at the smug look on his face.

Oliver kept smiling. “I can see you’re frustrated that I haven’t kissed you yet.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Yes, that is frustrating. Why haven’t you kissed me?”

“Because I’m not going to _really_ kiss you until you ask me to.”

“Why not?”

“Because kissing is very intimate. Kissing has a lot of emotion to it. So I’m not going to _take_ a kiss from you. If you want to have that kind of intimacy with me, you’re going to have to let me know.” He leaned down again, nudging their noses together. “I won’t kiss you on the lips until you ask me to. Or _tell_ me to. I have to admit…I wouldn’t mind at all if you _demanded_ that I kiss you. And I would do exactly what you told me to do, Felicity. Until then, however, I will kiss you in other places.”

He pressed his face into her neck then, burying his forehead into her hair. His lips moved over her skin, and the little prickles of his stubbly beard scraped across her shoulder, sending chills down her spine. “ _Oliver_ ,” she whispered, her voice too breathy to come out the way she’d planned, “please just tell me what this thing is that you want from me.”

“Mmm,” he murmured against her throat. “I want you to lift your skirt up.”

Her brow furrowed. “Is that _really_ the thing you want from me?”

Oliver pulled back to see her face. “Oh, no, that’s not _the_ thing I want. That’s just what I want _right now_. I want you to lift your skirt for me.”

She struggled to respond. “You, uh…you know I can’t do that.”

A frown pulled down the corners of his mouth. “You’re not going to make me use my fantasy on this, are you, Felicity?”

“What?”

“My fantasy – the one you promised me up at Blue. We both know you never fulfilled it. I brought it home with me, and I still have it.”

“Oliver, you know that was just something between us up on that mountain. It was never supposed to follow us back home.”

He gazed softly into her eyes. “But it did come back home with us. Maybe it shouldn’t have, but it did. And I’m not upset about that fact. At all. So now I still have this promise you gave me, the promise to fulfill a fantasy of mine, and I know you’ll honor it. Because Dr. Felicity Smoak would never break a promise she made.”

She nibbled against her lip, which drew his attention to her mouth and made a groan come from the back of his throat.

“God, Felicity, please don’t make me use my fantasy on this. I really want to hold onto that promise. I love knowing that you gave it to me, and that I still have it.” His gaze drew back to hers, his head tilting as he looked over her face. “I want you to lift your skirt for me now…just because I’ve asked you to. I want you to do this because you _want_ to do it. Because you want me to touch you. Because you want to feel me as much as I want to feel you.”

Felicity’s entire body trembled with his words. She stared hard into Oliver’s eyes. She could see so much inside him, swimming in that blue – determination, desire, lust. But those weren’t the emotions that made her heart stutter in her chest as she watched him watching her. The longing, the ache, the _need_ she witnessed inside him – those were the things that stole the air from her lungs. And she knew that everything Oliver felt, every single emotion inside him, was also inside her. Felicity knew Oliver could see her feelings as well, and that there was no point in attempting to hide her desires. Right now, she didn’t even want to try.

All the stark, unveiled emotion between them made Felicity’s fingers tremble as she reached down to the hem of her skirt. She pulled the soft fabric up her thighs, and across her hips, and then higher still. When the silky material finally bunched up onto her stomach, she watched Oliver’s throat shift with a hard swallow while his deep blue eyes grew even darker.

For a long moment, he didn’t look down. He just looked at her, looked straight into her, until Felicity shifted her legs beneath the scrutiny. Then his eyes drifted to her waist.

His gaze roamed over her tensed fingers and then farther down, to the juncture of her thighs. A low growl escaped his throat. “You’re wearing the hunter green thongs I bought you,” he said, his voice rough as sandpaper.

Currently incapable of speech, Felicity nodded.

The motion of her silent admission pulled his eyes back to hers. “Did you think about me when you put them on this morning, Felicity? Did you think about the fact that you’d be wearing my color – the color you gave me?”

“Y-yes.”

His pupils widened as his biceps flexed beneath his shirt. “I suggest you take them off. Now. Because I would hate for them to get torn.”

Felicity complied immediately, because she didn’t want them to get torn, either. And because she was getting really fucking tired of fighting her desire for this man.

Oliver maintained his gaze on her face as she slipped her fingers inside the straps at her waist. Felicity pulled the silky material down to her thighs, and then allowed it to fall to the floor. She shifted her feet, easing the panties off of her heels. And then she straightened again before him.

“Good,” he praised her, although the word came out more like a growl. “Now sit up on the desk, please.”

Felicity didn’t argue this time. She just propped herself up onto the wood, the bare cheeks of her bottom cooling instantly with the temperature of the desktop. Her fingers returned to the edge of the wood, gripping tight.

Oliver leaned in closer, his chest coming flush with hers as he kissed his way up her jaw to whisper beside her ear. “Now please put one of your feet into each chair.”

She did as he said, again. She spread her legs, placing one black heel into the seat of each chair, her calves resting beside the slatted wood backs. Her skirt remained bunched at her waist, and Felicity knew she was open to him now, in every possible way.

Oliver eased back just enough to stare into her eyes for another moment. Then he grabbed the red and green scarves, and both strips of duct tape, from the desktop. He knelt slowly down to the ground, coming to rest on one knee before her. His gaze drew to one of her feet, and Felicity heard the air catch in his lungs. “You’re wearing heels,” he breathed. “I never saw you in anything but hiking boots up at Blue. Hiking boots, or bare feet.”

She smiled down at the top of his head while his fingers ran across the black leather of her strappy shoes. “I always wear heels to work.”

His eyes darted up to hers. “I may have to visit you at work quite often, then.”

The promise in Oliver’s eyes didn’t make Felicity’s heart jump in her chest, or cause thick heat to pool between her thighs. Of course it didn’t. Because that would be wrong. So, so wrong.

She watched his eyes drift down again, watched while he wrapped the green scarf around her left ankle, and then the red scarf around her right. Felicity clenched tight to the desktop as Oliver took the tape in his hands next.

“I needed to use the scarves to protect your skin,” he explained while wrapping the binding strips on top of the delicate fabric around her ankle. “And I realize I could have just used the scarves to tie your legs to the chairs, but it felt more poetic to use the duct tape.”

Felicity didn’t respond at all. Because the fact that he’d put so much thought into tying her up rendered her speechless. And all she could do was grip onto her wood desk as he secured her ankles to the chairs.

When Oliver completed his task, he spent another moment staring at her feet. And then his gaze drifted up, slowly and methodically, across her calves, and over her thighs, and onto the juncture of her legs. Then he stared directly at her sex, and his chest shifted with a sharp inhale.

He stood immediately, pressing his hips between her thighs, bringing his body flush with hers against the desk. “God, you’re already wet,” he breathed, staring down into her face. “I can actually see how wet you are for me.”

Felicity whimpered.

“You know you’re already wet, don’t you?”

Unable to tear her gaze away from his eyes, she nodded.

“I want to fuck you right now, Felicity. I want inside you so badly – it hurts like hell.”

“Oliver,” she moaned. “ _Please_.”

He exhaled slowly. “No, baby. Not yet. Not until I get what I want.”

She trembled against him as he spoke, holding tighter to the desktop. “Tell me what it is, please. Tell me what this thing is that you want from me.”

He shook his head, just slightly, while he smiled into her. Then his gaze roamed across the curves of her face. “You know, I’m already used to seeing you with glasses on. I like them a lot, because they make your eyes look even more beautiful than they already are. It’s really quite unfortunate that I have to take them off now.”

Oliver reached up, grasping the frames in both hands and slipping them off her nose. Then he set the glasses on the desk, on top of her book, and reached for the blue scarf. “This color matches your eyes,” he whispered while bringing the material up to her face. “Although your blue is a bit lighter, like the sky. I love looking into it.”

The scarf swept across her skin, and Felicity allowed her eyelids to close. Oliver’s fingers worked against the back of her hair, knotting the fabric in place. Then his hands returned to the wood desktop, beside her hips.

“How is that, Felicity? Not too tight?”

“No, it’s not too tight.”

“Good. Can you see me?”

She tried opening her eyes, but she couldn’t see anything behind the secured fabric. “No,” she breathed. “I can’t see you.” And then she whimpered, because that fact hurt like hell.

Oliver leaned in close, his lips beside her ear. “I know you want to see me. I know how much you want to be able to look at me, because I remember that feeling all too well. I remember wanting so badly to see you, the night you put a blindfold over my eyes. But I’m going to say the same thing to you now that you said to me then. Just _feel_ , Felicity. I want you to _feel_.”

She shut her eyes again, trying to do as he’d instructed.

Oliver ran his stubbly cheek across her soft one, and then pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose. “Now stay very still, just for a second, please.”

“What? Why?” Felicity questioned, her fingertips digging into the edge of the wood as she distinctly heard him walking away. “Where are you going?” she called after him, not wanting to admit the feeling of desperation that settled into her body the moment he’d gone.

“I’m just going to use the sink in your restroom to wash my hands,” he answered from across the room. “I promise I’ll be right back.”

Her brow crinkled up behind the scarf when she heard the door to her washroom open, and heard the water in the sink come on. A few moments later, she listened while Oliver turned off the water and started walking again. “Why did you need to wash your hands?”

He came back to her then. Felicity knew he was back, because she could feel his body in front of the desk, the warmth of his skin seeping across the few inches that separated them. And she sighed, because his presence offered her peace unlike anything she’d ever known.

“I had to wash up because I’d been touching the duct tape, and just in case you have a reaction to it, I didn’t want it to be on my fingers. Because I need to be able to use my hands right now.”

Felicity blushed beneath the blindfold, because she just now realized that he hadn’t actually touched her skin at all since she’d walked over to this desk. He’d touched her hair, and her glasses, and her shoes, but never her skin. Not since he’d pulled the tape roll from his briefcase. “Thank you for being so cautious, Oliver, but my allergy isn’t _that_ severe. A little duct tape won’t hurt me.”

“Well, I don’t want to take any chances. I never want to hurt you, Felicity. Never.”

Moisture build behind her eyelids as his cool, freshly washed fingers eased up one side of her face. His hand had a hint of lemon scent, from the soap she kept on her bathroom sink, and she liked the fresh smell. But she preferred the way Oliver smelled – the way he always smelled. She couldn’t really describe his scent in words. She only knew that it was warm, and woodsy, and that it reminded her of being in the forest she loved so much.

Oliver took another step toward her, and Felicity leaned closer to him, just breathing him in. He responded by returning his mouth to her neck, pressing slow kisses down to the crook of her shoulder. His other hand found its way to her hip, curling into her bare skin. Felicity moaned at the feel of his lips and fingers against her heated flesh.

She wanted to touch him now. She wanted to touch him so badly. And the weird thing was…she _could_. She could peel her fingertips away from the desk at any time, and reach out for him, if she decided to. Which was a little confusing.

“Oliver?”

“Mmm?” he hummed against her skin.

“Aren’t you going to tie my hands up?”

He eased back a little. “You mean like you tied my hands up, that night at the cabin?”

“Yes.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Why not?”

“Because I want you to be able to touch me, if you want to.”

“You know I want to touch you.”

“Then go ahead, Felicity. Touch me all you want.”

She reached up instantly, and grabbed hold of his shirt collar, yanking him closer.

Oliver’s breath caught in his chest. “Wow. You have a seriously ferocious grip on me, Dr. Smoak.”

Felicity released her fists a bit.

He pressed a kiss to the shell of her ear. “That wasn’t a complaint. I’ve wanted you to touch me every single moment since I woke up without you in that bed in your cabin. Waking up without you was…torture. It’s been torture every day since. I just miss you all the time.”

Tears stung her eyes, catching behind the soft scarf, because she understood the pain of that loneliness all too well. And because she knew she didn’t have to feel it anymore, as long as she stayed here in his arms. “It was torture for me, too,” she whispered, feeling instantly guilty for the admission. Because she knew she was supposed to put her own needs aside, and try to do the right thing here. But Oliver was just so… _certain_. He was so absolute in the conviction of his emotions, and his resolve lulled her and soothed her and pulled her even closer.

Oliver brought his face back to hers, his breath against her lips as he spoke. “I’m sorry it was torture for you, too. But I have to admit, I’m so fucking glad you feel the same way I do.”

Felicity couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up from her throat with his words.

Oliver bent down, nudging his nose beside hers. “My God, I love to hear you laugh,” he hummed while pressing his lips to her cheek.

Felicity squeezed tighter to the collar of his shirt, wishing he would just kiss her already. But he’d told her that he wouldn’t until she asked, and she knew he wouldn’t budge on that point. She also knew he was right; kissing was intimate. She’d resisted kissing him up at Blue for as long as she could, for just that reason. And part of her knew that she should keep resisting now. Except that her body just needed more of his; her fingers needed to touch more of his skin. So she reached for the first button on his shirt, working it open with trembling fingers. She actually managed to pop open several buttons, despite her lack of vision and her shaking hands.

The moment Felicity could reach beneath the fabric – the moment she could get her hands under the opened seam of his shirt and rest her hand over her heart – she did.

Oliver groaned immediately with the sensation. “Damn, that feels good,” he breathed into her skin, his mouth pressing more kisses up her jawline. “I missed feeling your hand over my heart.”

 _It’s my heart_ , she corrected in her mind. Then she whimpered with the thought. Because she knew it was too possessive. She knew it was. And yet she’d felt that way for longer than she wanted to admit.

“Touch more of me,” he entreated, his voice strained and earnest. “Please, Felicity.”

She obeyed, pressing both hands beneath his shirt and raking her fingers across his collarbones and up to his neck. Oliver moaned, and dropped both his hands down to her hips, and then reached around behind her, to grab two handfuls of her ass. He palmed her smooth cheeks, one in each hand, as his fingers pressed close to the seam in the center.

Felicity gasped with the sensation, potently aware of the burning flames of her skin heating the wood desktop beneath her. Her fingers tightened into the skin at his shoulder, and his fingers crept even closer to the soft seam of her bottom. Felicity pressed the side of her face onto his, panting against him as he began running wet, purposeful kisses down her neck.

And then Marie’s voice came from the other side of the door.

“Doctor Smoak, is everything alright?”

Felicity stiffened instantly, her fingers digging into Oliver’s skin. She pulled uselessly at her tied legs as Oliver’s raspy, shadowed beard moved against the hollow of her throat. The door was not locked. Marie could walk in at any moment and see her here, bound and blindfolded and bare-assed on her desk.

Her entire body shook, and panic nearly overtook her, before she heard Oliver’s words rumbling against her.

“Tell her you’re good,” he whispered against her neck, his voice soft and soothing. “Tell her she can go home now.”

Felicity cleared her throat, searching for her voice. “Y-you…you can go home now, Marie,” she managed to say on her second try. “Everything is good. I’m perfectly good now.”

_Damn if that isn’t true._

“Are you sure you’re okay, Felicity?”

Oliver pressed his lips to the curve of her shoulder and nipped at her skin.

“Yes. I promise I am.”

“Alright…well…goodnight then.”

“Goodnight, Marie. See you tomorrow.”

Felicity heard Marie’s footsteps padding into the distance while Oliver moved his torture farther down, to nibble at the small part of her collarbone that peeked out from her modest blouse. His tongue darted out, just briefly, wetting her skin. Felicity moaned wildly, and grabbed his face in both her hands, pulling him back to her until she could feel his panted breaths mixing with her own. “Oliver, that was…that was too damn close.”

“Mmm…I’m glad she’s gone. I love knowing I have this whole office with you to myself now,” he growled against her lips. “I love knowing I can do anything I want to do to you. I love knowing I can do anything _you_ want me to do to you. Can you think of anything you’d like me to do to you, Felicity? Because I’ll do anything you want. Anything at all.”

She grabbed his shirt in both hands. “Dear God, please kiss me, Oliv…”

She didn’t get a chance to finish her anguished plea. Because his mouth landed on hers instantly, stealing all the air from her lungs. Oliver kissed her hungrily, and greedily – full of heat and need and possession. He pushed one hand up the back of her neck and into her hair, his fingers running into the loose curls before balling up tight against her scalp, clamping the gold strands between his fingers. It was almost painful. Almost. And it allowed him to hold her steady as he explored her mouth, deeply and thoroughly, with his tongue.

When he finally pulled away, after several long, perfectly torturous minutes, they both gasped for air. “Damn, your mouth is so perfect,” he insisted between pants. “All of you is perfect. Your soft skin, your gorgeous smile, your beautiful voice. You’re like a drug to me, and I can’t get enough of you, no matter how hard I try.”

She moaned with his words, gripping tighter to his collar.

“And before you start getting all doctor-y on me, Felicity, just know that I’m perfectly okay with my addiction to you. It’s not something you need to cure me of, because it doesn’t do me any harm. Quite the opposite, actually. Wanting you makes me feel alive, and I’ve needed to feel that for as long as I can remember.”

“Alive,” she repeated, the word a prayer on her lips.

“Yes. _Alive_. I’ve just been surviving for so long, and I don’t want to do that anymore. I know you feel alive when you’re with me, too. We give each other that. We have since the moment we met, and I don’t want to run away from it. Because it’s a gift – to be able to make each other feel that way. It’s a fucking amazing, beautiful, incredible gift, and I don’t ever want to let it go.”

Felicity felt him smile against her mouth, and then he kissed her again, sweeping his tongue past her lips to tangle with hers. This kiss was deep and insistent, drawing her right back into him. Felicity moved her hands up to his jaw, holding him to her as his mouth slanted against her lips.

Oliver drew his hands forward while he kissed her, pulling them from her ass to run down the sides of her legs. He smoothed his palms across her thighs, once, twice, three times. Then his hands drifted inward, feeling their way over her skin toward the juncture of her legs.

She whimpered into Oliver’s mouth as his hands moved closer and closer to her aching, throbbing sex. His lips eventually pulled away from hers, and he groaned while he drew one hand up the center of her legs, his fingers teasing around the edges of her wet skin folds, but not entering her. “Now, about this thing that I want from you,” he said, his husky voice hanging on the words. “I want you to promise that you’re going to give it to me, no questions asked.”

“What do you mean, no questions _ah_ …” She didn’t finish the protest. Because Oliver pressed a finger deep inside her at that exact moment, and it stole the breath from her lungs. He slid the finger all the way in, and then back out again, dragging it up to the tender bundle of nerves at the top of her sex. A pulse of electricity skittered across her skin, originating from the pressure of his fingertip and moving outward, over her entire body.

“God, _Oliver_.”

“Does that feel good?”

She fisted his shirt in her fingers. “Yes. _Yes_.”

“It feels good to me, too,” he informed her with a harsh growl, sliding his finger down through her soft folds again, and almost to the seam of her ass, before dragging it back up to where he started.

Felicity shivered with her whole body – from the top of her head to the tips of her toes – her mind grasping at straws. _Sweet Lord, how awful is this thing going to be? What does he want so badly that I can’t even know what it is before I have to agree to it?_

Oliver ran his finger around her tender little nerve bud then, in a tight, perfect circle, while pressing the hard ridge of his still-clothed erection into her belly. Felicity’s eyes rolled back in her head behind the blindfold, and she almost came right then. Right that instant.

“Please, Oliver, _please_ ,” she moaned. “I want you inside me.”

His finger dove back inside her, making her hips buck against the desk. “I want that, too,” he whispered into her skin. “You have no idea how much. I want to feel how soft and wet and warm you are when I slide all the way inside you. God, I want it with every part of me, with everything I am. But, unfortunately, I still need this thing from you.”

“What is it? Please tell me. Please.”

“Will you give it to me? No matter what it is?”

Felicity bit her lip hard and whimpered. The next second, she felt Oliver’s hand – the one not buried inside her – move to her face. She felt his thumb trace across her chin before pulling her lip from her teeth. Then he pressed his mouth to hers, easing his tongue across the tender skin she’d just abraded. “Tell me you’ll give me what I want from you, Felicity. Just promise me. It’s not a big thing; I swear it’s not. It’s a small thing, a simple thing. It’ll be easy to give it to me. So just say yes.”

“Oliver…”

He ran his lips across her cheek, hot breath igniting her skin. “Say yes.”

She pressed her eyes shut tight behind the scarf, just feeling his skin against hers. God, he was so close. So close, and so warm, and so strong. She wanted to lean on him. He filled her senses, bringing every nerve ending in her body to life, and she wanted to wrap herself around him and never let go. She wanted all of him, with a desperation she couldn’t mask. So she gave up trying.

“Yes, Oliver. _Yes_. Just tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you.”

Oliver’s breath caught in his chest, and his entire body stilled for a long while. And then Felicity felt him tremble against her, just for a moment, before he pulled his finger back out of her body. She gasped from the movement of his skin on hers, and then groaned from the lack of contact, until he returned both of his hands to her thighs, tightening his fingers into her skin.

He leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss to her lips. “You promise?”

Felicity inhaled deeply, drinking in his scent. “I promise.”

She felt him smile against her lips before he eased away just an inch. His hands began smoothing a path across her skin, from her inner thighs to her hips and back again, soft and gentle and soothing. “Okay. What I want from you is…a second date.”

Her brow lifted behind the blindfold. “A second date? That’s it?”

“That’s it. We already had our first date, and now I want a second one. See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“N-no, it wasn’t.”

“I told you it was a simple thing.”

Felicity shook her head, because nothing about this felt simple. “I’m sorry, Oliver, but I can’t go on a date tonight, because…”

“Because you work at your clinic on Wednesdays. I know that.”

“How do you know that?”

“I told you; I did a lot of research yesterday. I know you volunteer every Wednesday night, and I also know you have other doctors to help man the clinic the rest of the week. Which means you’ll be available to spend the evening with me tomorrow.”

“Well, yes, I suppose tomorrow night is good.”

Oliver leaned in again, pressing his lips to hers while his hands continued tracing a warm, intent path across the skin of her thighs. “Tomorrow _is_ good. Besides, I can’t have a date with you tonight, because I already have another date.”

She huffed out a breath against his hovering mouth. “You have _another_ date tonight?”

“I do. Her name is Sara and she’s adorable. Although she does drool quite a bit. Not as much as _you_ do when you fall asleep on my chest, but there is drool.”

Felicity worried, just then, that her swelling heart might actually burst inside her chest. “You’re spending tonight with Sara?”

“I am. I told Digg and Lyla to go out for the night, so I could have time with my goddaughter. And I bought Sara all kinds of toys. Because even though I know she’ll grow to love me for my charming personality, I figure showering her with gifts can’t hurt, either.”

Felicity’s arms tightened around his neck. “She _will_ love you for your charming personality, Oliver. And she’ll love you for how good you are to her. And she’ll love that you’re always there for her. And she’ll love you even when she’s a little mad at you for not agreeing with her thoughts.”

He smiled against her lips, his strong fingers smoothing continually across her legs. “I’m glad she’ll still love me even when she doesn’t agree with me. However, I would like to make it very clear right now that _you and I_ are in agreement about our second date.”

Felicity sighed with the feel of his hands on her skin. “Yes, we’re in agreement.”

“Good. But I would still like to hear you say the words.”

“What words?”

“I want you to say, ‘Oliver, I promise to come to your place tomorrow night at seven, for our second date.’ Can you do that, please?”

She couldn’t help the smile that curved her lips. “Oliver, I promise to come to your place.”

“Tomorrow night at seven.”

“Tomorrow night at seven.”

“For?”

“For our second date.”

“That’s good, Felicity. So good.” Oliver slid two fingers inside her then, while pressing his thumb deliberately against her tiny bundle of nerve endings. A pulse of electricity moved across her entire body and Felicity reached wildly for him, digging her hands into his hair as an involuntary shudder racked her body.

“Dear Lord, Oliver,” she breathed, her legs shifting against the strength of their restraints.

He pulled his fingers out, slow and steady, before pressing them all the way back in again, making her thighs tremble. “Don’t worry,” he whispered beside her ear, “I’m going to take care of all this pent-up sexual energy of yours in just a moment, but I need to let you know something first.”

“Wh-what?”

“Do you remember that day in the forest, when I told you I would fulfill my promise to tell you what happened back in high school, and you released me from my promise?”

“Yes, I remember.”

He shifted his fingers around inside her, pulling a moan from deep in her throat. “And do you remember that last night at the cabin, when I released you from your promise to spend the night in bed with me?”

“Yes, yes, I remember,” she panted.

“Well, the thing is, I know that this promise you just made me – to come to dinner at my place – was ill-gotten. I am well aware of the fact that I coerced you into making the promise, but you need to realize that I don’t feel guilty about it, and I’m not going to release you from it. I _do not_ and _will not_ release you from this promise. Do you understand?”

Air huffed from her lungs as she responded in the most stable voice she could muster. “Oliver, you do know that you’re being kind of despicable right now, don’t you?”

He chuckled, the warm sound echoing through his chest and into hers. “Despicable? No, I don’t like that word. Let’s go with _scoundrel_. I am being a _scoundrel_ right now.” He reached up with his free hand to take her face in his palm, grounding her to him. “But that’s okay, because my Felicity thinks scoundrels are sexy.”

She laughed with the words, and Oliver pressed his mouth to hers, swallowing the sound as he shifted his wrist to palm the folds of her sex while his fingers pressed even deeper inside her. Felicity kissed him harder, arching her tongue into his, wanting to participate in this battle. She ran her hands down the front of his shirt, her fingernails scraping against his chest.

Oliver groaned against her mouth. “I love it when you touch me,” he breathed, nipping at her lips. “God, I feel so possessive of you. I probably shouldn’t feel that way, should I? It’s a caveman-like thought; I know it is. And I’ll admit that part of the reason I wanted to tie you up today was because I wanted to have you here, to myself, completely at my mercy. But that’s because the night you tied me up, I was at your mercy. And I still am. I am at your mercy, Felicity. Please tell me you know that.”

She nodded softly behind the blindfold. “I do know that. And I feel like I should apologize for it.”

He pushed his fingers up, to the top wall of her sex, and she nearly wept with need. “Don’t apologize for that. Don’t ever apologize to me again. I’m grateful I get to feel this way.”

Sheer, raw, painfully perfect emotion clouded her mind and swelled her heart, and Felicity reached down across his defined chest and over his tight abdomen to the waist of his pants, needing to feel more of him. She needed to feel joined with Oliver in every possible way, and right now all that was left was the physical. So she popped open his button, and eased down his zipper, with trembling hands.

“ _Baby_ ,” he whispered, his voice little more than a moan, “I don’t want you to feel like we have to have sex. Not if you don’t want to. I can make you come with just my fingers.”

“No, I don’t…I don’t want that…I want _you_.”

She took his cock in her hand then, in both hands, encircling the thick shaft. He was so hot and pulsing and alive against her skin, and she squeezed onto him as she licked her lips in anticipation. Oliver panted with her movements. “ _Fuck_ , Felicity. That is just…amazing.”

“Please take your fingers out of me now, Oliver.”

He did as she asked, and ran both his hands back around her thighs and onto the flesh of her ass, gripping tight to her skin. Then he edged his hips closer to her. Felicity lined up the head of his cock with her sex, using her fingers to rub the tip up and down against the folds of her flesh, coating him in wetness from her skin.

She tightened the muscles in her calves in order to bring her hips forward, to feel his erection right in the spot where she wanted it to go. And then she removed her fingers from around him, and reached back out to grab hold of his shirt, fisting the material hard as she waited for him to enter.

But he didn’t.

Oliver edged back, just a little, and then brought his mouth down to hers.

Felicity felt him smile against her lips, and she groaned.

“God, Oliver, please. _Please_.”

“Please what?”

“Will you _please_?”

“Will I please what? I want to hear you say the words. Tell me what you want me to do to you.”

“I want you to fuck me, Oliver. Will you fuck me? Please?”

“Hmm…are you telling me that Dr. Felicity Smoak wants me to fuck her, right here, on the desk in her office?”

“Oh my God, _yes_. It’s me. Dr. Felicity Smoak. I’m asking you to fuck me on my desk. No, actually, I’m _telling_ you to fuck me on my desk. Now. _Now_.”

He drove into her then. Instantly.

They both sucked in air, deep and harsh.

Oliver’s hands fell from her ass onto the desk, making a loud banging sound as his chest pushed up against hers, flattening her fingers on his shirt. “Goddamn it, how is that even _possible_?” he breathed beside her ear. “You feel better and better every fucking time I sink inside you. I swear to God you do.”

Felicity whimpered with the words, and pressed her lips to his jaw, breathing him in. “Has it only been four days since you were inside me, Oliver? I swear it’s been forever.”

“It has been. It’s been forever,” he agreed, pulling back just enough to run his lips across the shell of her ear. His tongue darted out, wetting the skin just below her earlobe, and he exhaled against it, sending chills running across every surface of her body.

Felicity bucked onto him, straining the ties at her ankles so she could coax him even farther inside. His cock throbbed against her inner walls, hot and thick and filling. She moaned, and snaked her hands up his chest to his neck, gripping him tighter.

Oliver winced against her. “I need you to stop moving for a minute, Felicity. I need you to give me a little time to get myself under control, please.”

“I don’t want you to get yourself under control. Not right now.”

He groaned. “ _Please_ , baby.”

She let out a harsh sigh, and dropped her forehead to his shoulder, as she attempted to be good. Even though she didn’t want to be. She just wanted to feel him come inside her. She wanted to feel that perfect pulsing sensation of him, emptying himself deep in her sex, as she clamped her walls around him and writhed in ecstasy.

But she stilled instead, listening intently while Oliver inhaled and exhaled several times. She felt his shoulders straighten a bit, felt him ease his face away from hers, felt his hands return to the flesh of her bottom. His fingers dug back into the cheeks of her ass, his fingertips just at the edge of the seam. And then, finally, he pulled his cock all the way outside of her body, just a second before plunging all the way back in.

When his flesh hit against the nerve bud at the top of her wet folds, Felicity cried out, her hands pushing into his hair. “Mmm,” Oliver murmured while her fingers curled up against his scalp. “Now isn’t this better, Felicity? Isn’t it better when I’m in control?”

She huffed out a laugh. “Are you trying to get me to say that I like it when you’re in control of me?”

He chuckled in response, which made his erection twitch deliciously inside her. “You don’t have to say it. But I won’t fault you if you do.”

She bit into her lip, just to keep the words from falling out of her mouth.

Oliver leaned into her, and Felicity knew it was just so she could feel him smile against her lips. “Perhaps you’ll admit that to me another time,” he suggested, running his tongue across the part of her mouth.

He kissed her, just briefly and feather-light, as his fingers pressed in closer to the soft seam of her bottom. “Fuck, I love your ass.”

Her fingers fisted in his hair. “You may have mentioned that before.”

“And I’ll mention it again.” He pressed a kiss to her chin. “And again.” Another kiss to her jaw. “And again.” Another to the tip of her nose.

Oliver gripped tight to her flesh then, and pulled himself out of her, just to drive back in again, pushing hard up against her body, sending chills radiating out from her sex to every nerve ending she owned. Felicity whimpered and whined and groaned all at once. She pulled aggressively against the binding on the chairs, wanting desperately to clamp her legs around him, to hold him to her with all her limbs.

“Dear God, will you _please_ untie me now?”

Oliver’s warm breath tickled her cheek as he responded. “Why? Because you’re aching to wrap your legs around me?”

A strangled laugh escaped her throat, because the way he read her mind was starting to become scary. “Yes, I want to wrap my legs around you.”

“I know you do. I knew you would. You always held me so tight to you, when we were up on the mountain. You always clung to me with your whole body, every time I was inside you, like you never wanted me to leave. And I never wanted to leave you, either. I just wanted to stay inside you. I still do. I always want to be inside you, Felicity, and I don’t mean just physically.” He withdrew again, just a little, before sliding his cock back into her wet, aching sheath. “Although I must admit that this is perfection.”

Oliver repeated the motion, pulling his thick length out and then sinking back in, pressing against her tight nerve bud, sending another frisson of lightning coursing through her. Then he leaned down, to rest his cheek beside hers. “I’m sorry I can’t untie you right now,” he whispered beside her ear. “But I need you to feel desperate to wrap your legs around me. I want you to feel so desperate to hold onto me that you won’t be able to stay away from me, even after I leave this office today. And I know that’s wrong of me. I know its damn near cruel of me to do this to you. But I’m desperate, too. I’m desperate to have you with me. I’m desperate to be inside you. And I need you to be desperate right along with me.”

Tears sprung up behind her closed eyelids, and Felicity fisted his hair tighter in her fingertips. “I _am_ desperate, Oliver. I am desperate to have you with me.”

Oliver stopped breathing. He stopped moving altogether, becoming silent for a long moment. And then he reached for her face, steadying her with both hands. “God, Felicity, that’s the best thing I’ve ever heard in my life.” His mouth landed on hers, firm and fiery and demanding, his tongue tangling against hers as he thrust his heavy cock inside her, again and again, pressing her back farther on the desktop with each pulse of his hips.

Felicity pulled harder against the binds at her ankles, straining her thighs to keep her body close to his. She knew Oliver felt her struggles, because he reached one hand back to her ass, grabbing the flesh roughly in his fingers, to pull her toward him. He brought her to the very edge of the desk, and the moment she was there, he buried himself to the hilt inside her soft, swollen walls. Felicity cried out with the sensation, her entire body trembling with need and want and sheer, sweet, hellish desperation.

“Come for me, baby,” he whispered against her mouth, one large hand still holding her face to his. “I need to feel you come apart around me.”

She complied instantly. She didn’t have a choice in the matter, really. Her body was strung so tight, her nerves so raw, that just the sound of his voice and the feel of his breath skittering across her skin sent her so far over the edge that she was drowning before she ever knew she’d gotten that deep into the water.

Felicity clung to him as best she could, wrapping her arms around Oliver’s neck and pulling him to her like a lifeline. Oliver held her back just as tight, his thick arms wrapped fully around her body even as he continued to pump his hips against her, eliciting more moans and whimpers from her throat as her orgasm went on and on and on. Eventually his movements slowed, but he still kept them steady, milking every sensation.

She shivered with the last little firings of her nerves – with every last throb of the orgasm he’d drawn so deliciously from her body – and then she bit into her lip when she realized that he was still rigid and swollen and fully erect inside her. Felicity hummed in the back of her throat, because Oliver’s thick, pulsing length still stretched the walls of her sex to the limits, and she knew he hadn’t come yet. Which meant they were going to have more of this.

Oliver pulled back from her just a little, just enough to press his lips to her forehead. Felicity held onto him as hard as she could, sighing with the smooth sensation of his mouth on her skin. And then she stilled as Oliver eased himself out of her desperate grasp, and pulled out of her completely. He left her panting and trembling against the desktop, wondering what would happen next.

Would he untie her now? Would she be able to move? Would she finally get the chance to wrap her legs around him? Or would he change her position, and bend her over on the desk, and take her from behind, so she could feel his chest against her back and his body covering hers, over the cool wood surface?

The anticipation nearly stopped her heart while Felicity waited impatiently behind the blindfold. And then she felt his hands easing down to her ankles, and she felt the edge of her scissor as Oliver cut the tape from her left ankle. The moment the binding was free, he unwrapped the scarf and smoothed his fingers across the skin beneath it. After he’d released her left ankle completely, Oliver repeated the entire procedure on the right ankle.

Felicity didn’t remove her feet from the chairs, even after she was completely free. Because she didn’t know what he wanted to do to her, and she didn’t want to change his plans. Because she was ready to be fucked again. Or made love to. Anything, really. She just wanted him back. She just wanted him back inside her.

So she was confused as hell when she heard his zipper being closed.

Her brow scrunched behind her blindfold one second before she reached up to pull the scarf from her face. Felicity blinked her eyes, accustoming herself to the light, while she focused in on Oliver. He stood a few feet away from her, with his obvious erection stuffed back inside his closed pants. And now he was refastening the few shirt buttons she’d managed to undo.

“Oliver? What are you doing? Aren’t you going to finish?”

He closed the last button near his collar before turning back to her. “No, I’m not.”

“Why on earth not?”

“Because this wasn’t about me, Felicity. This was about you.”

Her mouth fell open. “But, what about…” Felicity’s words fell off as she motioned to his tented pants.

“Yeah, that’s going to be annoying for a few more minutes, and then it will calm down.”

“But, it doesn’t have to. I’m perfectly willing to…”

Oliver stepped back between her legs instantly, and pressed his mouth to hers, stealing the words from her lips with the slide of his tongue into her mouth. He kissed the hell out of her, and Felicity nearly forgot what she’d been saying by the time he finally eased back. “Don’t think for a second that I don’t want to finish,” he breathed against her skin. “But I’m making a point, here.”

Her eyes opened to look up to his, and she took a minute to appreciate the deep, profound, simply gorgeous blue that she hadn’t been able to see behind her blindfold. “Alright, Oliver. Point noted, and appreciated. But that doesn’t mean you have to suffer. I’d be happy to finish things for you…maybe with my mouth?”

A crooked smile pulled up one edge of his lips while Oliver stared down into her. He reached one hand to her face, and tilted her chin up to him. “Hmm…let me make sure I’m hearing this correctly. Is _Dr. Felicity Smoak_ saying she wants to give her boyfriend a blowjob in the middle of her office right now?”

Felicity tried not to smile. She really did. Because he’d already proven the fact that she couldn’t resist him, no matter where she was, or who she was. It didn’t seem fair to make her admit it again. But when she looked into his playful, adoring eyes, her lips curved into a smile against her own volition, and she knew she didn’t really have a choice in the matter. “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“Well then, will you please say it?”

“What do you want me to say?”

“I want you to say, ‘I, Dr. Felicity Smoak, want to give my boyfriend a blowjob in my office.’”

Her brow rose. “Oliver, are you seriously trying to make me admit how much I want you… _again_?”

His grin turned delightfully wicked as he looked into her. “Scoundrel. Remember?”

Felicity’s heart did a funny flip in her chest with the gleam of delight in his eyes, and she grinned right back at him. “Okay, yes, I want to give my boyfriend a blowjob in my office.”

Oliver continued to smile at her for one more second. And then the smile fell, and he grabbed her face in both hands, and ground her to him. He leaned in, and bit into her lower lip, pulling it out a little before soothing it with a tender kiss. Then he growled, “You forgot to say the ‘Dr. Felicity Smoak’ part.”

The dangerously intense look in his eyes was somehow terrifyingly perfect, and Felicity gasped in a breath to speak as she stared up at him. “I, Dr. Felicity Smoak, want to give my boyfriend a blowjob in my office.”

Oliver groaned with the words, and she felt the rumble of it go through his chest and into hers. “God, you have no idea how much I want that,” he confessed, his arms dropping down to snake around her waist, pulling her harder against him, sliding the bare skin of her inner thighs around his clothed hips. Oliver pressed his thick, still-pulsing erection up against her belly as he looked deep into her eyes. “You have no idea how much I want to see your lips wrapped around me. You have no goddamn clue how much I want to fuck your gorgeous mouth.”

Felicity whimpered, shifting against him while her hands reached for the collar of his shirt. She clung tight to the material inside her fists, trying desperately to keep herself upright.

Oliver leaned down, closing his eyes and running the side of his nose against hers. “Will you let me come in your mouth, Felicity? Can I come right on your tongue?”

Her hips jumped, and she felt his arms wrap tighter around her. “Yes,” she breathed.

He shifted, pressing his rock hard length harder into the tiny swell of her stomach. “Are you just aching to taste me?”

She made some sort of bizarre noise in the back of her throat then. She wasn’t even sure where the sound came from, but she definitely knew she hadn’t made that noise before, ever. “God, yes, I want to taste you, Oliver.”

“Mmm,” he murmured against her lips, his tongue darting out to trace the seam of her mouth ever so briefly. “That’s how I feel about you, too. I could taste you all day. I could bury my face between your legs and lick you and suck on you for hours and hours, just relishing your taste while you come on my tongue again and again, until you beg me to stop, because you think you might pass out from the excruciating sensations of pleasure.”

“Holy damn it, just take your pants off now!” she squeaked, her arms dropping down to reach for the button of his waistband again.

Oliver grabbed her hands with his own, just before she got the button undone. He grasped her wrists gently in his fingers, and brought her hands back up to his mouth, and pressed a soft kiss into each of her palms. “As good as that sounds,” he murmured against her skin, “I need to leave now, before I can’t. Because if I stay, I’m either going to end up coming in my pants, or breaking down and fucking your mouth. And I didn’t intend for either of those things to happen when I showed up here today.”

He released her hands, setting them down against her thighs. Then he eased slowly away from her, making sure she could support herself before backing off entirely. Felicity dropped her feet to the floor, her heels catching her as she stood. She smoothed her skirt back down to her knees while she watched Oliver bend down to grab her underwear from the ground.

He grinned as he handed them to her. “I will, however, take a rain check on the blowjob, if that’s okay.”

“A rain check?” she questioned, reaching out to take the green panties from his fingers before dropping them onto the desk behind her.

“Well, it is raining.”

Felicity’s brow rose as she looked outside, to where all those gray clouds had opened up, and were now pouring water down against the windows of her office. The raindrops made quite the noise on the glass panels, but the funny thing was that Felicity hadn’t even noticed the melancholy sound. She turned her eyes back to his. “Okay, you can have a rain check.”

“You know, come to think of it, you promised me a blowjob the night you tied me up. With whipped cream, if I recall correctly. So that’s actually two you owe me. Not that I’m counting, or anything.”

Laughter bubbled up from her throat. “Alright. You have _two_ blowjob rain checks.”

Oliver nodded in agreement. “I like that,” he said, and then he reached around her, grabbing the two wood chairs in his hands. He walked them both to the front of her desk and set them back in place. Then he rolled down his sleeves, grabbed his jacket from the couch, and pulled it on. Once he was fully dressed again, Oliver returned to Felicity’s side.

He reached one hand into his pants’ pocket, and pulled out a slip of paper, and set it on the desk beside her hip. “I wrote my home address on this paper. I’ll see you there tomorrow night at seven. Okay?”

Felicity looked up to his eyes, watching the anticipation move through the beautiful blue. “I’ll be there, Oliver.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

He pressed another soft, smooth kiss to her lips, just before turning to pick his briefcase up off the floor. When he straightened, Oliver glanced down at the bulge still in his pants. “Man, I’m glad Marie went home. I’m going to have a hard enough time winning her over without her seeing me walk out of your office like this.”

Felicity laughed again, and she felt the sound light up her entire body.

Oliver turned back to her. “God, I love it when you laugh,” he confessed, his eyes roaming across her face for a quiet moment before he spoke again. “I’m so glad I met you, you know…that day out in the little square beside the fountain.”

She looked into him, just absorbing the hope in his deep blue, before she said, “I’m glad you came over to talk to me while I was eating my lunch.”

“Of course I did. Once I saw you, I just had to talk to you. I just had to know you.”

Felicity held his eyes with hers. “You do know me, Oliver.”

He nodded. “And you know me, Felicity. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She stood silently, watching as Oliver left the room. When the door closed behind him, she took a few steps over to her leather chair, and pushed it back in front of her desk, and slumped down into the seat that molded perfectly to her body.

Felicity stared down at her desktop for a long minute before reaching for the red plastic egg. Popping open the lid, she gathered the soft putty from inside, squishing it between her fingers. And then she smiled.

...

 **A/N:**   Soooo...apparently I needed to live out some of my fantasies about Olicity getting back together :)  I hope you guys enjoyed this; I would LOVE to hear what you think!  And come say hi on Tumblr anytime - I'm TinaDay3W on there, too!

Up Next...Chapter 15:  Reality


	15. Reality

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I have a few things I would like to say...first, thank you a million times over for the support and love for this story; it means the world. Second, I think I should issue a "trigger" warning for some dark subject matter in this chapter, just in case, because I never want to harm anyone. Third, this entry is long. Shocker, right? But I've decided to stop fretting over my ridiculous word count and just splash around in these last few chapters :) And finally, I would like to share a story with you. It's the story of how I met my husband. It doesn't really have any bearing on the plot of the chapter, so please feel free to disregard the rest of the author's notes, if you like; I will completely understand :)  
> My husband and I went to high school together. We never met. We had the same Latin teacher and the same Physics teacher, we lived 10 minutes down the road from each other, and our families ate at the same mom-and-pop pizza place. We never met. He played in the band at the foot of the stage when I was up on stage getting my diploma at graduation. We never met.  
> Four years later, I was just a few months shy of graduating from college. Certain events in my life had broken me down, and led me to the conclusion that I should move to Alaska and become a cat lady (since I do so love cats). I had pretty much planned on doing just that. Then one night, a few friends of mine invited me to a party. I'd had a rough evening working at the hospital and didn't really feel like going, but I took a deep breath and went anyway. I then found myself in the hallway of a large house at 2 am, talking to a guy I knew from high school, who was making me fall asleep. I looked around for a distraction, and that's when another guy walked by me. I didn't know him, but I knew he was cute and really tall (I'm 5'9" so tall is nice), so I did something I've never done before in my life. I looked at him and said, "Hey, Butch, how ya doing? Long time no see."  
> My future husband looked down at me at that point and he swears that, in the five seconds it took him to answer me, he considered the fact that I would probably be his wife, and that he needed to use an unusual name for me, so I could never accuse him of using an old girlfriend's name in order to talk to me. So he said, "I'm doing great, LuAnn. How are you?" Then we started chatting like we'd known each other for years. It only lasted for maybe 30 minutes, because it turns out he'd gotten to that party by accident - because a friend of a friend of someone's sister knew someone who lived in the house - and he had to leave with the people he'd come with, to return to his college, which was three hours away. This was before the time of cell phones, so I wrote my address down on a piece of paper and asked him to write me a letter. I didn't think he actually would. Two days later, I got the letter he wrote me. In crayon. Because he wrote me the letter the night we met, and a crayon was all he could find. And that was 23 years ago.  
> Needless to say, I did not move to Alaska. But we did name our first cat Butch. My relationship with my husband turned me into a gigantic romance-loving mush ball (to be fair, I was a mush ball before I met him, but he enables me in the best way) and now I love writing romance stories with happy endings. And for Oliver on Vacation, I loved the thought that Oliver and Felicity worked right across the street, and passed by each other all the time, but never met until the point in their lives when they needed to. Because I believe that life often gives us what we need, right when we need it, even if we have other plans.  
> So there's my little true-life romance story; thanks for letting me tell it. And now, on to the next chapter! I really hope you'll enjoy this :)Tina

Felicity sat behind her desk in her office, with her chair turned toward the window, staring out at Oliver’s building across the street. She’d had her eyes glued to the reflective glass face of Queen Consolidated for some time now. The biggest reason for that was because she liked seeing Oliver’s building so close to hers. But the other reason was that Felicity was having trouble looking at her desk, after what had happened on it yesterday evening.

She’d brought in Clorox wipes to clean off the surface this morning, because that seemed like a good thing to do. Although she didn’t know for sure, since she’d never had sex on her office desk before. But she figured Clorox couldn’t hurt.

It had been a long night working at her clinic last night, and a long day of seeing patients today, with her mind churning each and every moment. Because Felicity couldn’t _not_ think about what happened between her and Oliver here yesterday. Everything he’d said, and everything they’d done, and everything she’d said, left her excited and nervous and hopeful and frightened. Frightened of taking this step into new territory, and trying to be with someone who swore he wanted _all_ of her.

Felicity’s gaze shifted then, from the window to the wall of plants on the right side of her office. She remembered bringing every single one of these pots and stands in here, sometimes three or four at a time. They gave her strength, and brought her peace, and she’d loved seeing Oliver standing in the office with them yesterday. Even if what transpired between them last evening wasn’t anything she could have possibly anticipated.

Honestly, after having 24 hours to think about it, Felicity wasn’t actually sure _what_ had happened here yesterday. She only knew she’d made Oliver a promise, and she intended to keep it. Admittedly, the promise was made somewhat under duress. But she still made it, so she would fulfill it. In just a few moments, Felicity would drive to Oliver’s house, and spend the evening with him, on their second date.

 _A second date_ – that was all he’d wanted from her when he came here yesterday. Oliver had barged into her office full of purpose and intention and sinful certainty, and when he’d had her bound and blindfolded on her desk, Felicity assumed he was going to ask her for something much more difficult. But Oliver assured her that all he wanted was a simple thing.

A second date. That _was_ simple. She could do that.

Provided they took things _slow_.

Because Felicity understood, logically, that _caution_ would be the key to making this relationship work in the real world. They would need to take everything one step at a time, over a span of time. She could work with that scenario: with a slow, methodical transition from the fantasy that was Blue, to the reality that lay before them. She was even prepared to start on that journey with Oliver tonight.

They could spend a lovely evening with each other, perhaps sitting at his dinner table.

_Are we even going to have dinner? We never actually talked about it._

Then, after dinner, they could sit on his couch and talk.

_But just talk. That’s all._

Then she could give him a kiss goodnight.

_Or maybe two or three. But definitely no more than three._

And then she would go back home.

 _Alone_.

It would be a nice date. A delightful date. And they would probably even agree to have a third date soon…perhaps sometime next week. Because that would be good timing. Nice and _slow_. Slow was the key. Slow, slow, slow.

_I haven’t learned yet how to be without you for more than two days at a time. I suppose I’ll have to work on that. Maybe I’ll even figure out a way to go for a whole week without you, once we’ve been married for thirty or forty years._

Oliver’s words popped into Felicity’s head, and she groaned.

Because as certain as she was that they should embark on this relationship cautiously, she knew that Oliver didn’t want to wait for anything. He wanted them together – _right now_ – which meant that Dr. Smoak would have to reign in some of his extreme thoughts. Especially since the freebird inside her would happily drown in those emotions, right alongside him.

But it was important that she and Oliver take baby steps right now. They could try dating in the real world, and use terms like _boyfriend_ and _girlfriend_ , and see if they still enjoyed spending time together when their feet were planted firmly in reality. And if they really were meant to be together in the long run, then the rampant, fantastical emotions that sprung up so quickly between them would eventually grow into something sturdy and stable.

Felicity hoped that would happen. She wanted to believe that her and Oliver were meant to be. But she knew only time would tell. Only _time_. ~~~~

Still staring at her wall of plants, Felicity nodded to herself, silently confirming the rationality and validity of this plan. It was a good, solid plan for their future. She just hoped that Oliver would be reasonable enough to agree with it.

Collecting her purse from her bottom right hand drawer of her desk, Felicity glanced back at her desktop and blushed uncontrollably. Then she stood from her chair, and gathered her keys from her bag, and walked across the floor of her office to the mahogany door. The instant she pulled on the wood handle, her nose filled with fragrance and her eyes widened.

Felicity glanced around the reception area as she stepped into it, attempting to wrap her mind around the sight before her. Dozens of flower vases – filled to brimming with vibrant blooms – decorated every flat surface. “Um, Marie? What is all this?”

“Goodness, I have no idea,” she replied, wringing her hands while she stood.

“It looks like a florist’s shop threw up in here.”

“I know, right? They all just arrived a few minutes ago. I thought they must be for you, but they’re actually for me.”

Felicity turned her eyes to her friend. “Did Manny just decide to tell you he loves you even more today than he did twenty-three years ago?”

Marie shook her head. “No, it wasn’t my husband who sent them.”

“Oh, well…is there a secret admirer I should know about?”

A blush lit the woman’s cheeks. “I don’t know. The card just says, ‘ _Marie, Thanks for all you do – O_.’” Her brow furrowed. “I don’t even know anyone who’s name starts with O _.”_

Laughter bubbled up from Felicity’s throat. “Oh my God. They’re from Oliver.”

Marie stared at her for a long while. Then her jaw fell. “You mean Oliver _Queen_?”

“Yes.”

“Why on earth would Oliver Queen send me a greenhouse-full of flowers?”

“Because he wants you to like him.”

“But I don’t understand why he would care.”

Felicity sucked in a deep breath. “Well, it’s just that he’s…he’s my boyfriend. So he wants to be friends with you, because he knows you’re part of my life.”

Marie’s brow lodged into her hairline. “Oliver Queen is your _boyfriend_?”

“Yes,” Felicity said, her heart skipping as she admitted that for the first time, to someone other than Oliver.

“I – I didn’t even know you were seeing anyone.”

“Well, this all started very recently. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you yesterday; I know that would have made things easier between the two of you when he arrived here.”

“Oh. Well, it’s just…I appreciate your apology, but…”

Felicity absorbed the look of concern on Marie’s face. “But what?”

“I know I shouldn’t butt into your personal life, Felicity. I just feel very protective of you. And I know Oliver Queen is a billionaire CEO, but that doesn’t necessarily make him a good person. I want to make sure that he deserves you.”

Felicity smiled softly, because she and Marie had been through a lot together, and she knew how deeply the older woman cared for her. So she wanted her to know the truth. “He is a good person, Marie. He’s wonderful, in a million different ways. And he makes me really happy. Happier than I’ve been in as long as I can remember.”

Marie looked her over for a long minute, and then smiled. “Well, that’s what I care about the most. You deserve to be happy.”

“You know, Oliver told me that just yesterday.”

“He did?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, if that’s the case, then I’ll give him a chance.”

Felicity nodded, reaching out to squeeze her friend’s shoulder. “I’m glad.”

Marie tilted her head. “Are you going to see him tonight?”

“I…yes, I am.”

“Well, that explains why you wore your hair down today. I was surprised when I saw you this morning; I haven’t seen you with it down in over six months.”

Felicity’s gut lurched, and she reached up to push her glasses higher on her nose. “Yeah, it’s been a while. But I should…I should go now. I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”

Marie nodded. “Bright and early.”

Stepping toward the door, Felicity squeezed her fingers around her car keys, holding tight to that sense of stability as she exited the office. She made it down the elevator, and past Security, and out to the parking garage, with only mild panic symptoms. But once she sat into the driver’s seat of her BMW, and pulled Oliver’s address from her purse, and stared at his bold handwriting, she started having a lot more trouble breathing.

Because sitting in her car right now, preparing to head to his place for their date, felt really _real_. And as much as she knew that they needed their relationship to be grounded in reality, the thought of facing that reality scared the living hell out of her. Because there were still things in her life that Oliver knew nothing about – things she never intended to tell him when she found him by the side of the road at Blue. But this reality they were headed into now would force her to relive those events, at some point, and she wasn’t sure if she could do that.

 _Calm down, Felicity,_ she encouraged silently, pushing a loose curl behind her ear. _Everything is going to be okay_.

She inhaled deeply, working to listen to the voice in her head.

But her hands still shook when she put the key in the ignition and started the engine.

Her eyes darted to the clock on her dash. 6:15. It was too unfashionably early to head to his place now, even if Felicity prided herself on being early. And since she felt fairly familiar with Starling, Felicity knew roughly where Oliver’s apartment was and knew she could get there quickly. So when her empty stomach began growling at her, she made the decision to use her extra time to stop by a grocery store on the way.

Which shouldn’t have been a problem, except that once she got to the store, she couldn’t decide what to get. She honestly didn’t know if Oliver had plans for dinner, and she couldn’t even call to ask him, because they’d never exchanged phone numbers. Felicity wandered the aisles for a good while before she finally decided on some fancy cheese – a block of strawberry chardonnay cheddar – and a bottle of wine that would accompany it nicely. Wine and cheese sounded perfect. Because she could survive on the cheese if she had to. And the wine would help settle her nerves. Hopefully.

By the time she got back into her car, it was 6:50. Which meant she could still get to his place by 7, if she didn’t dawdle. But that plan got shot to hell when she somehow got turned around on the interstate between the grocery store and his building. So when Felicity finally broke down and asked her cell phone for directions, she was already officially late.

A sense of relief flooded her veins sometime later, once Oliver’s building came into view through her windshield. Until she realized that the building was huge – at least twenty stories high – and immaculately structured and detailed. It reeked of wealth, and Felicity swallowed harder than normal as she drove beneath the first floor, down into the parking garage. There was a visitor’s section, and she pulled her black sedan into a free space.

Her eyes drew to the dashboard clock again as she took the keys from the ignition. 7:21. _Damn it._ She hated being late.

Throwing her keys and the brick of cheese inside her purse, Felicity gathered the bag in her left hand and the wine bottle in her right, and stepped out of the driver’s seat, balancing on her gold high heels for a moment before shutting her door. Then she pulled her purse over her shoulder, and smoothed down the wrinkles on her bright blue blouse and ivory skirt, before looking to the door before her. She stepped forward, attempting to walk with the bare minimum of trembling, as she made her way into the lobby of the impressive building.

Once inside, Felicity pressed her shoulders back and approached the front desk with resolve. She glanced at the handsome Asian man who stood behind the large, ornate desktop. He was dressed in a guard uniform, and busily staring at a security feed on a computer monitor, until he heard her approach.

The man’s eyes lit up the moment he saw her. “Oh, thank God you’re here.”

Felicity’s eyes darted down to his ID badge. _Maseo_. Her eyebrow quirked up when she looked back to him. “I’m sorry…do I know you?”

“No, but I know you. That is, if you are Dr. Felicity Smoak, Oliver Queen’s girlfriend.”

Her mouth hung open for a moment before she could speak. “Okay. Well, that’s…he told you I was his girlfriend?”

_Is he telling the entire city? I mean, I told Marie, but Marie is Marie and I…_

“That’s not all he told me,” Maseo offered.

“It’s not? What else did he tell you?”

“Just that you were more beautiful than I could imagine, with gold hair like sunshine and pink lips like flower petals and blue eyes as light as the sky – I’m fairly certain those were his exact words. And he wasn’t wrong. Although I probably shouldn’t tell you that, because he informed me that if I tried to charm you in any way, he would have some truly horrible things to say to me.”

Maseo ended his speech with a grin and Felicity had to clear her throat to utter even one word. “Oh.”

He chuckled. “It’s okay; Oliver’s been my friend for years, so we speak fairly candidly with one another. Although I’ve never seen him like this before, ever. And I’m just really, really grateful you’re here now.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s been calling me every goddamn five minutes for nearly an hour, asking if you’ve arrived yet, and now I can finally stop talking on the phone and get some work done.”

“I’m…I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to be late; I just got a little turned around on the highway getting here, and…”

The cell phone clipped to Maseo’s belt rang, and the man rolled his eyes. “Hold onto that thought for a second, Dr. Smoak,” he instructed as he lifted the phone to his ear. He sighed before speaking. “Yes, Mr. Queen….Yes, she’s here now….Yes, it is wonderful….No, I promise you she’s fine; she just got a little turned around on the highway….No, I haven’t kept her down here, talking to me _forever_ ….Yes, I’ll send her up right away….You’re welcome.”

Maseo shook his head as he reattached the phone to his belt and looked back to her. “Well, as much as I enjoy your company, I should send you up to Oliver now or I’m afraid I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Felicity tried to smile while her heart thumped a thousand times a minute against her ribcage. “Okay. What floor is his apartment on?”

“The top floor.”

She nodded. “Great. Thank you. And it was very nice meeting you,” she offered as she stepped past the guard desk to the elevators.

“It was nice meeting you too, Dr. Smoak.”

“Oh, please, call me Felicity.”

Maseo smiled. “Alright, Felicity.”

Pressing the “up” button on the elevator panel, Felicity looked back to the lovely man. “Um, Maseo? Which way do I go once I get to his floor?”

“Just straight ahead.”

“But which door will it be?”

“There’s just the one door, Felicity.”

Her brow rose. “You mean he owns the whole top floor of the building?”

Maseo’s head tilted as he regarded her. “You have no idea how rich his family is, do you?”

“Um, well, it’s…they’re, uh, the Queens, so…” The ding of the elevator saved her from her stumbled words, and Felicity waved before she stepped inside and hit the top button, to floor twenty. Maseo smiled at her as the door closed. The moment she was alone, Felicity took a huge, gulping breath. Her fingers clenched the neck of the wine bottle in her hand, and her teeth nibbled against her lower lip, while she stared blankly at the shiny silver insides of the elevator.

She’d never actually considered the reality of Oliver’s family before. Probably because everything between the two of them, since the day they met, was just that – between _them_. Just Oliver and Felicity. In fact, other than a few brief moments with Roy and Marie, no one else had ever even seen them together.

But it wasn’t going to stay that way forever…not if they really planned to make this relationship work. Eventually, they would have to meet family and friends, and tell the lie about how they’d met in the square by the fountain outside of Queen Consolidated. Felicity definitely wasn’t ready to do any of that. She didn’t know when she ever would be.

It wasn’t the Queen wealth issue that bothered her; after all, she was a physician and she could take care of herself. What really bothered her was the question of how the people in his life would react to them being together so quickly. And she also couldn’t help wondering if Oliver’s family – his retired, mountain-climbing parents and his world-traveling Parisian sister – would all be as intimidating as he was. Because Felicity wasn’t sure if she could ever possibly have enough training or experience to handle an _entire family_ of them.

“God, don’t think about that right now,” she chastised herself while the elevator neared the top floor. “It’s just you and Oliver tonight. You’re going to concentrate on the beginning of your relationship, and on taking things slow. Just do that, Felicity. Just do that.”

The words made sense, and when the elevator bell rang at the top floor, Felicity felt a little better about her and Oliver, and about their snail-paced relationship. That small sense of calm lasted for all of two seconds. Because the moment the door opened, Oliver stood there – in all of his intimidating, beguiling, nerve-wracking glory – just _glaring_ at her.

“You’re late,” he growled, his broad shoulders consuming her field of vision, his blue eyes burning into hers.

“I’m…I’m so sorry…I just got…”

Oliver reached forward, and grabbed her around the waist, and pulled her out of the elevator, into the empty hallway. Then he pressed her up against the wall, just to the left of the door, and kissed her. Except he didn’t just kiss her. He stole her breath, and drank her in, and flat-out _claimed_ her.

Felicity’s arms dangled limply at her sides, her fingertips barely maintaining a hold on the neck of the wine bottle, while his body invaded all her senses. She didn’t protest the intensity of the kiss. Not at all. She probably should have, but she didn’t. Because she’d missed him just as much as he’d obviously missed her, and so she allowed them a little time to just _be_.

When Oliver finally dragged his lips away, and dropped his forehead onto hers, neither of them could catch a breath to speak. He curled the fingers of one hand around her waist while edging his other hand up her neck and into her hair. Felicity kept her eyes closed, and just breathed in the scent of his warm body, pressed so tight to hers.

Eventually, Oliver’s shoulders relaxed as he smiled against her lips. “You’re here.”

She reached her left hand up to grab hold of his forearm, squeezing her fingertips into his skin. “I’m here,” she assured him, grateful that he wore a short-sleeve shirt, so she could feel his heated flesh beneath her palm.

“I was worried sick,” he confessed, sighing as his fingers threaded through her loose curls. “I just figured you would be early. I actually expected you to be early.”

A laugh bubbled up from her throat. “Honestly, I’m almost always early, to everything. Except that I got a bit turned around on the highway, and…”

He straightened himself before her. “Can I see your cell phone? Please?”

“Oh. Um, sure,” she agreed, digging in her purse until she found it.

Oliver grabbed the electronic device the moment he could and started pushing buttons.

“What are you doing, Oliver?”

“Programming my cell number in here. And my home number. And my work number. And now I’m going to call my own cell from yours…and there we go. Now I have your number, too.” He looked to her face when he handed the phone back to her. “Please, please call me if you’re ever going to be late again, Felicity. Just so I don’t have a heart attack. Okay?”

She nodded when she saw a flash of fear move through his eyes. “Okay, Oliver. I’m sorry I was late.”

He gave her another smile. “At least you’re here now,” he said, returning his hands to her waist. “I have to admit, I was a little afraid you wouldn’t show up tonight at all. Because I know the promise you gave me yesterday was ill-gotten, and honestly, I wouldn’t have blamed you if you didn’t come. But I’m so incredibly grateful you did.”

A dozen different emotions ran through her veins with the mention of the promise she gave him – along with various and sordid memories of being half-naked on her desk with her legs tied to chairs, begging Oliver to fuck her – and redness crept quickly and hotly into her cheeks. Oliver’s grin broadened as he watched her blush, and Felicity feared the thought that he might kiss her again. Because she _wanted_ him to kiss her again, so badly, and she dreaded the fact that they were alone in this hallway right now, where he could easily fuck her up against this wall. She was terrified of that – not because she thought Oliver would necessarily do it, but because she was afraid, if he didn’t, that she would start begging him mercilessly until he did. And that would go directly against all of her well-intentioned plans to take things slow tonight.

So in order to divert that crisis, Felicity raised her right hand and said, “I brought wine.” She held the bottle up to show it to him, ultimately proud of the fact that she hadn’t dropped it when he’d kissed the hell out of her straight off the elevator. “And I also have a block of cheese in my purse. Because we hadn’t talked about whether or not we were going to have dinner, so I just thought I’d bring a little something along. For a snack. Or an appetizer. Or whatever.”

He chuckled. “Of course I’m going to feed you, Felicity. I know you’ve been at work all day, and you must be starving, so I made dinner.”

“You – you made dinner?”

“Yeah.”

“You cook?”

“I do. I like to cook, actually. I can’t say that it will be as good as the food up at Blue, but it’s definitely passable.”

“I’m sure it’s more than passable. And certainly better than anything I could do. Because I can’t cook at all. I’m absolutely _horrible_ at it.”

He brought his hand to her jaw, grounding her to him. “Well, I guess you can’t be perfect at everything.”

Those words struck a cord deep inside her. “I’m…I’m not perfect,” she insisted before nibbling against her lower lip.

Oliver pulled her lip from her teeth with his thumb, and then pressed a soft kiss to her mouth. “You’re perfect to me.”

She whimpered, her tongue darting out to trace the impression he’d left on her skin.

“So I’ll just be the cook in this relationship,” he added with a sparkle in his eye. “See? That worked out incredibly easy, didn’t it? Our first relationship question of the night, and we _tackled_ it, head-on. We are amazing together.”

Felicity couldn’t help smiling at the sweet look of excitement in his eyes. “You can cook and I can do the dishes?”

He kissed her again, just a light touch of his lips to hers. “This is just getting better and better,” he sighed. And then he straightened, and gathered her free hand in his, pulling her down the wide hallway toward the single entry door. “Although no dishes for you tonight. And in the future, I’ll never mind helping with them.”

Felicity trotted along behind him, with her purse and wine bottle in tow, mentally preparing herself to step inside his full-floor home. Until Oliver stopped abruptly, just a few feet from the door. He turned toward her, his body only inches away, and met her eyes.

She felt his fingers tremble before he spoke.

“So, um, Felicity…I owe you an apology, I think.”

“An apology? What for?”

“For Thea.”

“You mean your sister, Thea?”

“Yes. She’s here. She flew in from Paris yesterday evening for a surprise visit. Honest to God, I had no idea.”

“You – you mean Thea is here, just past that door, in your apartment?”

“Yes, Thea. And my mom and dad, too.”

Felicity’s jaw hung for a moment, her brow rising above her glasses. “Your… _what_?”

“My mom and dad.”

“Oliver, are you telling me that your _entire family_ is in there right now?”

His brow furrowed a bit as he nodded. “Yes.”

“Well…well…I’ll just…I’ll just come back another night, then. Obviously, you weren’t expecting them to be here, so we’ll reschedule this for…”

“Oh, no, I expected them to be here,” he said, squeezing her hand inside his own. “I mean, I wasn’t expecting Thea, but I invited my mom and dad.”

She worked to clear her throat. “Wh-why did you invite your mom and dad to our _date_?”

He grinned ear to ear, the kind of grin that normally melted her heart right into her toes. But she couldn’t melt just now, because her entire body had frozen solid. Oliver took another step closer to her, forcing her to crane her stiff neck up to look into his eyes.

“Because, Felicity. I want you to meet them. And I want them to meet you.”

“Oliver, I…I can’t…”

“Here we go,” he said, reaching for her waist, spanning her lower back with his arm as he pushed the door open with his free hand and guided her inside. The moment they entered the ginormous front hall, three impeccably dressed people came walking instantly over to them.

“Well, here she is,” Thea said, pushing one side of her short brown hair behind her ear as she looked to Felicity with sparkling green eyes. “I guess I owe you twenty bucks, Dad.”

“Yup, you sure do,” the older, distinguished-looking man agreed with a smile. “I told you he didn’t make her up.”

“Oh…you two,” the other woman chided. “Behave yourself or she’ll run away. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Felicity.”

Oliver’s beautifully poised mother offered Felicity her hand to shake.

Felicity – feeling, and probably looking, like a deer in headlights – lifted her hand as well. Except she completely forgot that there was a wine bottle in her fingers. And she just let go of it.

Oliver reached out, catching the bottle with lightning-fast reflexes, right before it hit the ceramic tile floor. “Whoops,” he said, jumping to stand at Felicity’s side. “Got it.”

Felicity bit into her lip as she glanced up to Oliver’s face.

“No problem,” he offered, setting the bottle down on the hall table beside him before turning back to smile into her eyes.

Felicity blinked a few times and then refocused on his mother, finally shaking her extended hand. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Queen; I can’t believe I just dropped that. I’m just…it’s a pleasure to meet you, too.”

“Call me Moira, please,” she encouraged, the tone of her voice more regal than any Felicity had ever heard in real life. “And this is my husband, Robert, and my daughter, Thea. I thought introductions might be in order, in case you haven’t heard as much about us as we have about you.”

Her brow skyrocketed while she stared into Moira’s keen eyes. “You’ve _heard_ about me?”

“Yes. Oliver hasn’t stopped talking about you for days. We were so looking forward to this evening, ever since he invited us to meet you.”

“Wh-when did he invite you?”

“Oh, well, I believe it was Tuesday night.”

Felicity’s jaw unhinged. “Tuesday?” _That was before I even agreed to a second date._ “Oh, well…that’s um…uh…”

“Oh my God, _Ollie_ ,” Thea piped in. “You didn’t tell her we were going to be here, did you? You actually sprung your whole family on her without _telling_ her?”

Felicity turned her gaze to Oliver, just in time to watch him cringe. “ _Thea_. It wouldn’t have been my _whole_ family if you hadn’t _barged_ in here unannounced.”

“But _still_! What were you trying to do to the poor woman? Make her stroke out?”

Oliver glowered at his sister. “You know what – will you guys excuse us for a minute?” he asked, taking Felicity’s now-free hand tightly in his own.

Thea rolled her eyes at him. “Sometimes you are _pretty_ dense, brother,” she snorted as Oliver pulled Felicity away.

“Have some of the appetizers I set out, please,” Oliver called over his shoulder while he guided Felicity through the main room.

She stumbled along beside him, her footsteps barely functional. There was a large dining room table to her left, set elegantly with five place settings in china and crystal, and also a vast living room to her right, full of designer furniture and gorgeous artwork. Everything in Oliver’s home was delightful, but Felicity could hardly grasp any of it, when her mind struggled just to wrap itself around the current situation.

_Oliver’s entire family is here to meet me tonight._

He pushed them both through a swinging door and into his kitchen, which was gigantic and pristine – a professional chef’s dream. As the door swung closed behind them, Felicity glanced around her, to the thick granite countertops at her waist, and the gourmet cooking pots hanging from the racks above her head. Oliver kept pulling her farther inside, right up to his massive kitchen island, before finally letting her hand go. Then he stepped back a foot, and looked to her eyes, and stilled.

Felicity stood, barely conscious and briefly mute. She opened her mouth, trying to correct her sudden inability to speak, but nothing would come out. Nothing at all.

Oliver exhaled slowly as he watched her. “I imagine you have a lot of questions for me,” he began, keeping his tone soft and calm.

She managed to squeak out a few noises then, but not anything resembling language.

A gentle smile pulled up the corners of his lips. “Alright, well…while you’re thinking, I’m just going to get dinner out of the oven.”

Felicity watched him turn toward the double stove behind him. He grabbed a potholder, and opened one door, and pulled out a pan of food. The smell was delicious, and her empty stomach growled its approval. Then Oliver set the pan down on the stovetop, and picked up a pair of tongs, and began transferring the food to an ornate china platter. “I made chicken cordon bleu,” he informed her while he worked. “I hope you’ll like it. It’s my mother’s favorite dish, so I thought, if nothing else, that it would make her happy and keep her mouth full. I know she can be intimidating at times. Honestly, I know my whole family can be a little bit intimidating.”

_A little bit intimidating? A little bit? Good God, Oliver!_

Once he’d arranged the chicken onto the serving platter, he set the tongs and potholder back down. Then he moved to the sink, and washed his hands, and dried them on a towel. He simply went about his business, preparing their dinner, as if this entire situation were perfectly normal. And it freaked her out beyond words.

 _Breathe, Felicity. Breathe_.

She did as she instructed. She worked on life-sustaining measures. And worked on getting her voice back.

Finally, after forever, Felicity managed to say one single word. “Simple.”

Oliver turned back to her then, focusing his entire body on hers. “Simple?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Yes, Oliver. _Simple_. That’s what you said. Yesterday – when you made me promise to give you the thing you wanted – you said it would be _simple_.”

His determined gaze didn’t falter. “This _is_ simple, Felicity. I wanted you to meet my family, and now you’re here, meeting them. I’d say that’s pretty simple.”

She huffed out a breath. “You really think that meeting your entire family on our second date is _simple_?”

“I do, actually. Because if we’re going to spend the rest of our lives together, we should know each other’s families. So I’m just making sure that happens.” He shrugged. “Simple.”

“I…uh…um…”

She’d managed to go mute again, and she shook her head, over and over, looking around the gigantic room for something easy and functional that she could do. She needed to help prepare this dinner, even just a little, in order to ground herself to the current situation. Pulling her purse from her shoulder, Felicity set it onto the counter and reached inside, searching for the one task she knew she could perform right now. “I need a knife, Oliver.”

“A _knife_?”

She pulled the block of cheddar out from her bag and set it on the granite countertop, and then looked back to him. “Yes. I need to cut the cheese.”

Oliver’s eyes widened briefly, his lips twitching as he worked to repress a smile.

Felicity replayed the words in her head. Then she groaned. “Oh. My. God. I cannot believe I just said that. And it is still as mortifying now as it was when I was twelve.”

He turned away from her, reaching for a knife from his butcher’s block. Felicity watched his shoulders tremble beneath his shirt, and she knew he was barely containing himself.

“You had better not be laughing at me right now, Oliver Queen.”

He shook his head when he turned back to her. “I’m not. I would never laugh at you,” he insisted, setting a cutting board and knife on the counter in front of her before taking two steps backwards.

Felicity took the knife in her hand, squeezing her knuckles white against the handle, as she looked up at him. “I know I’m going to say something like that in front of your family,” she breathed, her heart pounding in her chest as she considered the horror of all that could potentially fall out of her mouth. “I want them to like me, Oliver. I want them to like me so much, but I’m so flustered right now that I can’t think straight. At all.”

Oliver’s head tilted while he observed her with puppy-dog earnestness, and she couldn’t handle the look of pure adoration in his eyes. Because that look made the breath hitch in her throat, and raised goose bumps all over her skin. And that just made all of this a thousand times harder than it already was.

“You know you fluster me. You know you do,” Felicity said when she looked down, grabbing hold of the block of pink-gold cheddar and hacking into it with the knife. “I worked so hard to get my babbling under control when I was younger. I went to therapy for _years_ , trying to fix it. And I did. I _conquered_ it, Oliver. I hadn’t babbled at all – not _once_ since I was 22 years old – until I met you. And then there I was, laying with you on the ground in that forest up at Blue, feeling your hands on me, and the next thing I knew I was talking about latex allergies and condoms and getting pregnant and I even think I said something about sperm banks. Sweet Lord, did I really say something about sperm banks? I think I did, but I can’t be sure. And that’s the thing – that’s just what I’m talking about here – you change everything, every moment I’m around you. You make me feel so damn much, all the time, and these emotions are so powerful and so overwhelming and I just can’t make myself think straight when I’m with you. And now here we are, with your entire family out in the other room, and I’m terrified that something ridiculous is going to come flying out of my mouth and then…”

“I love you.”

“…they won’t know what kind of woman you’ve brought home to meet th…”

Felicity’s fingers shook against the knife as her words caught in her throat.

She lifted her eyes to his.

“Wh-what did you say?”

Oliver took two steps back to her, erasing the space between them. “I love you. I love you, Felicity. And I probably picked a really bad moment to say that for the first time, but I just needed you to hear it.”

Her entire body trembled while she looked up to him.

Oliver’s hand moved to the side of her face, holding her steady. “I need you to hear something else, too. I need you to hear, and to understand, that I am absolutely positive about how I feel. So just in case you still think I’m suffering from erotic transference, I would like to point out that the articles I read on that particular syndrome say it’s about a person searching for the love and acceptance they missed during childhood. But I don’t have that problem. I have always been loved. My mother, my father, and my sister…they love me without bounds. It’s a gift I’ve always been distinctly aware of, a gift I’ve always treasured. So I know what love is. I know _how_ to love. I just never found the right woman to love. Not until now.”

He shifted his fingers against her face, his thumb rubbing softly on her skin. “I love you, Felicity. I love you with every piece of my heart and soul and body and mind. And those people out there – the people who have known me and loved me for my entire life – are going to see exactly how I feel about you, because I can’t hide it. And I don’t want to hide it. They’re going to see it, and they’re going to love you, too. So put down the knife, please, and come have dinner with my family.”

She didn’t speak for the longest time. She couldn’t. She just stood there, replaying his words over and over again, reeling in the fact that this man loved her. This strong, astonishing, magnificent man loved her, and she didn’t even know how to respond at this moment.

Oliver leaned down to press his lips onto hers. The kiss was warm and soft and soothing, and Felicity breathed in the woodsy scent of him while he dwelled for a moment against her skin. Then he straightened, just a little, and reached for her hand.

He extracted the knife from her fingers, and set it down beside the partially carved block of cheddar. Afterward, he lifted the cutting board and held it out to her. “Do you think you can carry this out to the dining room table? I need to carry the chicken platter.”

She nodded, taking the board from his hands.

“Everything is going to be okay,” he reassured just before he turned to grab the platter from the stovetop. “You know I’ll be right here with you.”

Oliver smiled at her as they walked away from the island together. He pushed on the kitchen door with his elbow, holding it open for her to pass through. Felicity moved back out into his living room, waiting until he took a few steps toward his family. Then she followed.

“Oh my goodness, is that what I think it is?” Moira cooed while they approached.

“Chicken cordon bleu,” Oliver announced, setting the platter down between his mother and sister, before he moved to the seat at the end of the table. He looked back to Felicity, and then pulled out her chair – the one immediately to his left.

Felicity plastered a smile on her face while she sat down between Oliver and his father, and across from his sister. “I brought the cheese,” she said, her face flushing the moment the words left her mouth.

Moira smiled kindly from the other side of the table, where she sat beside her daughter. “Well, that’s lovely,” she offered before turning to her husband. “Remember when we went to Holland that time, Robert?”

“I do. Beautiful country. And the cheese was incredible. Did you know people actually wear wood shoes there? It’s probably just to delight the tourists, but still.”

“Dear Lord, _wood_ _shoes_ ,” Thea groaned, grasping one of the goblets of wine sitting out on the table. “Fashion nightmare.”

“It was _perfect_ , Thea,” Moira defended, reaching for a serving of chicken. “And so is this meal – everything tonight is just wonderful. We haven’t had a proper family dinner in ages, and I haven’t had Oliver’s cordon bleu in as long as I can recall.”

Oliver smiled. “I knew you’d like it.”

“Yeah, he made your favorite dish, Mom,” Thea added while she served herself from the platter. “It’s like he’s buttering you up for some reason. Which I don’t understand at all, because Felicity is freaking adorable. There’s no reason to butter you up just to meet her, unless…well, unless she’s pregnant.”

“Thea!” a chorus of voices rang out – every voice except for Felicity’s. Even Thea had shouted her own name.

“God, it’s so easy to rattle you guys,” the young woman noted with a giggle, taking a sip of her wine before setting it back by her plate. “And I don’t see what the big deal is anyway, because Mom would probably love it if Felicity was pregnant. I know she wants a little Queen heir running around in diapers, and _I’m_ certainly not there yet.”

Felicity shook her head. “I’m…I’m not pregnant,” she squeaked, pushing her glasses up as high on her face as she could.

“Of course you’re not, dear,” Moira reassured, turning her intent gaze from her daughter in order to smile into Felicity’s framed eyes. “And even if you were, it would be _none of our business_ ,” she emphasized the words while glancing in Thea’s direction once again.

Thea sighed dramatically, and settled heavier into her chair. Felicity watched Oliver’s mischievous sister for a moment, wondering what was going to pop out of her mouth next. And then Thea looked up, meeting her eyes across the table. The beautiful young woman smiled at Felicity – a big, gorgeous, heart-warming smile – just before she winked.

Felicity could have kissed the girl at that moment. She wanted to reach across this table right now, and grab Oliver’s sister by the ears, and plant a big one right on her mouth. Because Thea obviously understood how intimidating this entire situation was for her, and so Thea had just jumped into it with both feet, crushing the barriers of formality into little pieces. And that made Felicity feel more at home right now than she could have ever possibly imagined.

Felicity smiled to herself as she looked down to the chicken Oliver had set on her plate. Robert nudged her elbow, and then handed her a bowl of mashed potatoes, which had apparently been covered and sitting on the table for some time. The fluffy, whipped-and-buttery concoction was still warm, and Felicity heaped a serving onto her plate while various other dishes were passed around the table.

“Why don’t you tell us about Paris, Thea,” Moira suggested while everyone served themselves food. That prompt started Thea talking, and the young woman barely stopped to catch a breath for a very long time. As everyone dug into their meal, Thea regaled them all with stories of the Parisian people, and culture, and of parties and shopping and lovely friendships. Felicity listened intently as she ate Oliver’s delicious food and sipped on her fruity wine. She laughed at the wild exuberance of Thea’s stories, and found herself offering comments and exchanging smiles with the vibrant young woman across the table.

The easy joy of Thea’s personality was infectious, and helped to slow the rapidity of Felicity’s pulse. But Felicity did still draw her gaze over to Oliver from time to time, just to assure herself that he was still beside her. No matter what was happening around them, she always found his deep blue eyes fixed intently on her.

Felicity smiled with his vigilance, and Oliver breathed easier with her smile.

By the time everyone finished the meal, the atmosphere was softer, and lighter, and Felicity found herself relaxing into her chair.   Until Oliver said, “Let me just gather all the plates and take them to the kitchen, and then I’ll bring out dessert.”

Felicity jumped. “I’ll help you.”

“No, no, I’ll help him,” Thea insisted. “You’re the guest here. Just relax.”

Oliver smiled down into Felicity’s eyes while he and Thea stood from the table. They cleared everyone’s plates, and moved to the kitchen together. And then Felicity found herself alone, with Mr. and Mrs. Queen.

Taking a deep breath in, she focused on the poised woman across the table. “So, Oliver tells me that you went on a mountain-climbing trip recently, for your birthdays. Which, if I remember correctly, are just two days apart.”

Moira nodded as she dabbed her lips on her napkin. “You’re right, they are. And the trip was _delightful_. Wasn’t it, Robert?”

He nodded. “Just amazing. I’m so glad we did it, even if it was a challenge.”

“Where did you go?”

“Mount Rainier in Washington,” he answered, turning his light blue eyes to hers. “We went with a group and had a guide, so it wasn’t exactly as adventurous as it sounds.”

Felicity grinned at him. “I don’t know; I think it’s still pretty spectacular to get out there and explore. I love the mountains, too.”

“You do?” Moira questioned, drawing Felicity’s gaze to hers.

“I really do.”

“Hmm. Well, then, you would have loved the view from the top. It was just exquisite. You can see these lush valleys, and even other volcanoes, and it is all astounding.”

“Wow, that sounds…incredible. I would love to climb that mountain one day. Did you happen to see any birds? The American goldfinch is the state bird of Washington and it’s just beautiful, with a yellow body and black wings, and just a bit of black on the top of its head.”

Moira’s brow rose. “You like birds, I take it?”

“Oh, yes. I did a lot of hiking as a child and birds are just…well, they’re a hobby of mine, I guess you could say.”

Moira began to reply, but then the door from the kitchen swung back open, and Thea and Oliver returned. The woman looked up at her son. “Oliver, Felicity was just telling us how much she likes the outdoors, and how she would like to go mountain climbing.”

He nodded as he brought a rectangular plate toward them. “Yes, Felicity loves nature. She always has, ever since she was little.”

Oliver shifted the tray in his hands before setting it down in the middle of the table. Felicity’s eyes drew to it, and when she registered what was on it, a giggle burst out of her throat. Then she looked up to him, watching in wonder while he smiled down at her.

“Dessert is served,” Oliver said, reseating himself beside her.

“Um…” Moira hemmed. “What are those, dear? Are those Twinkies?”

“Yes, they are. They’re Felicity’s favorite food. So I thought we could all have one.”

The older woman’s brow rose while she regarded Felicity from across the table. “This is your favorite food?”

Oliver reached for the plate, taking one in his hand and presenting it to Felicity. Her eyes found his when she took the offering. He looked into her, his gaze warm and soft and reassuring, and her pulse skittered. “Yes, it is my favorite.”

“I love them, too,” Oliver said, grabbing his own and shoving a bite in his mouth. “I mean, it has something in the middle that you didn’t even know was there. It’s a _surprise_.”

Felicity bit into the spongy dessert in an attempt to conceal the ridiculous grin threatening to overtake her face.

Thea huffed as she grabbed a Twinkie from the plate. “This is a _surprise_ , alright.”

“Well, I think it’s a great idea,” Robert offered, taking a treat for himself before lifting the tray toward his wife. Moira took a Twinkie in one hand, her forehead crinkling as she examined the oblong food. Then she sniffed it, and pressed it to her lips, and nibbled at the end.

“God, Mom, just _bite_ into it,” Thea encouraged. “There’s frosting in the middle – that’s the part you want to get to.”

“I’m…I’m getting there, _Thea_ ,” Moira said with an arched eyebrow.

Felicity enjoyed the blissful sound of Oliver’s chuckles coming from beside her as he watched his mother struggle with her dessert.

Moira took another bite, a bigger one, and a dollop of cream mushed out onto her chin.

“You’ve got a little something right there,” Thea informed with a gleam in her eye.

Moira set the Twinkie down and reached for her napkin, wiping her chin. “Did I get it?”

“Yup. It’s all good now.”

“Wonderful,” Moira announced, straightening her shoulders once again and refocusing on her son. “Now back to what I was saying before, Oliver…Felicity says she loves nature, and enjoys the mountains, and I’m sure she would enjoy mountain climbing with us.”

He nodded. “I’m sure she would. She is a Girl Scout, after all.”

Felicity made a choking sound in the back of her throat. “I…I _was_ a Girl Scout.”

Oliver turned his eyes to hers and smiled softly. “You still are.”

Thea laughed then, hard, her shoulders shaking beneath her designer shirt. “Well, get a load of that. Oliver Queen is dating a _Girl Scout_. That’s a sentence I never thought I’d utter.”

Oliver and Moira both glared at Thea for a moment – to which the girl shrugged and mouthed the word, “ _What?_ ” – before turning back to Felicity.

“I would love for you to come mountain climbing with us sometime, Felicity,” Moira insisted. “A Girl Scout would certainly be handy to have around. I’m sure you’d be a better guide than the one we had up on Rainier.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that, but I could probably point out some interesting birds.”

The Queen matriarch smiled. “Yes, I bet you could. You definitely need to come with Robert and I, the next time we go. Although it would just be the three of us, I’m afraid, because my son won’t come. He doesn’t care for the outdoors.”

“I’ll come,” Oliver said.

All eyes at the table turned to him, but Moira’s grew the widest. “You’ll come mountain climbing with us?” she questioned.

“Sure. If Felicity wants to go with you, I’ll go, too.”

Moira’s mouth opened, but nothing came out.

Thea’s mouth was another story. “ _What_? Are you freaking kidding me right now? Oliver, you _hate_ nature. You hate _everything to do_ with nature. You always have, since…as long as I can remember. I could barely even get you to go to the _park_ to push me on the swings when I was little. And now you’re all set to go _mountain climbing_?”

Oliver huffed out a breath when he looked to his sister. “I changed my mind about nature, Thea. I just…I wasn’t appreciating it before. I wasn’t appreciating all the beauty in it.”

Thea’s brow lodged into her hairline. “Good God, this just gets more and more interesting.” She shifted her focus to Felicity. “Tell me, _please_ …how did you two meet?”

Felicity stiffened immediately. There it was. The question she didn’t want to answer. Because she really didn’t want to lie to these people.

She turned her gaze to Oliver, just to see him, to know he was there. Oliver focused in on her immediately, staring solidly into her eyes while his lips pulled up in a gentle smile. Then he laid his hand out on the table, palm up, reaching toward her.

Felicity didn’t hesitate. She placed her hand inside of his, smoothing over his warm skin. Oliver’s fingers played against her wrist, calming her instantly. She breathed in, and out, and settled again in her chair, amazed as always by the extent to which their connection soothed her.

Oliver kept his eyes fixed on Felicity’s while he answered his sister’s question. “Felicity works in the building across the street from Queen Consolidated. I can see her office from mine, even though I never knew she was there. But it turns out that sometimes she eats her lunch outside, in the marble square.”

“I do,” Felicity agreed, returning his soft smile with one of her own. “I sit out there when the weather is nice, and I watch the birds hop by, and listen to the water splash in the fountain.”

“And you were there, that day, eating your lunch.” Oliver’s voice softened, as if he were speaking for her ears only. “You were sitting on one of the stone benches, right by the splashing water, and I saw you from across the square. You didn’t see me at first, because you were busy, but I saw you. And I nearly tripped over my own two feet when I did.”

Felicity laughed, which made his smile deepen. “You _did_ almost trip, when you walked over to talk to me.”

He leaned closer to her. “That’s because you were feeding part of your sandwich to a squirrel, and the damn thing dove right in front of me to catch a piece of bread.”

“It didn’t _dive_ in front of you,” she challenged while her fingers eased across his palm. “It was just living its life, and you happened to be there.”

“Oh, no, it definitely _dove_ in front of me. On purpose. And I nearly fell over on my face. But that just made you reach out to catch me, so…I forgive the squirrel.”

Her fingers stopped moving, and Felicity held tight to his hand. “You forgive him?”

“Yeah, I do. I might even _like_ him. A little. But if you tell anyone, I’ll deny it.”

She smiled with her whole body, and Oliver chuckled as he gazed into her eyes.

“Umm,” Thea hemmed after a few seconds of silence, “in case you forgot, dearest brother, there _are_ actually other people here. So we heard all of that.”

Oliver turned reluctantly away from Felicity, and toward his sister. “What?”

“We heard the part about you liking the squirrel, so you can’t deny…oh, never mind. When exactly was it that you tripped over a rodent and landed in Felicity’s lap?”

“Uh…well, it was very recently.”

“Recently?” Moira questioned.

“Yes.”

“But weren’t you in Cozumel with your work friends for the last few weeks, Oliver?”

He looked to his mother and shook his head. “No, I didn’t go to Cozumel. I stayed with Felicity.”

Thea sat up straighter. “You mean you cancelled your vacation to _Mexico_ to spend time with a woman you _just met_?”

“Yes.”

“So we’re actually talking about a love-at-first-sight scenario here?”

Oliver squeezed onto Felicity’s hand as he met his sister’s probing gaze. “Pretty much.”

Thea’s brow rose when she turned to her.

Felicity could see the question repeated in Thea’s eyes: _Was it love at first sight?_

The unspoken question was open, and simple. But Felicity didn’t know how to answer it right now. Because she knew what she _wanted_ to say, but she also knew this wasn’t the place for it. So instead, she tightened her fingers against Oliver’s skin, while her full stomach churned.

The brief silence became nearly deafening until Moira crooned, “Oh my goodness, these things really grow on you.” All eyes drew to hers when she bit into her Twinkie with fervor, giving a tight-lipped smile while she chewed. “Mmm. Quite good.”

Felicity couldn’t help grinning. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Oh, I do,” Moira agreed once she’d finally swallowed the spongy mush, and then washed it down with a gulp of wine. “Now why don’t we talk more about you, Felicity? Oliver tells me you’re a doctor.”

“Yes, I am.”

“You must be brilliant, then.”

“Well, I wouldn’t…”

“You don’t have to be modest,” Robert offered, breaking his comfortable silence with a grin. “Not with us. Have you discovered the cure for cancer yet?”

Felicity returned the soft-spoken gentleman’s smile. “No, I’m afraid not.”

“Well, there’s always tomorrow.”

“I bet she can do it,” Thea insisted. “She’s obviously some sort of miracle worker. What kind of medicine do you practice, Felicity?”

“Psychiatry.”

Thea’s eyes nearly popped out of her head. “ _Psychiatry_? Oh dear Lord! Did you put Oliver on medication? Is that what’s happening here?”

“God, _Thea_ , give it a rest,” Oliver growled.

“I’m just _saying_ ,” she replied, “that you being on drugs would go a _long way_ in explaining all of this.”

Oliver’s brow rose at his sister. “I’m not going to have to pin you down on the floor and tickle-torture you right now, like I did when we were kids. Am I?”

“ _Holy hell_ , Ollie, don’t you even _think_ about…”

“Oliver! Thea!” Moira shouted, her eyes blazing for an instant before she sucked in a deep breath and then straightened her spine and calmed her tone. “The two of you do know how to behave properly in front of a guest, don’t you? Because that is in question right now.”

Moira refocused on Felicity the moment the composed smile returned to her face. “I do apologize for my children. They get a bit unruly around each other.”

“Yeah, we do,” Thea agreed, nodding briefly at her mother before turning her direct gaze back to Felicity. “But seriously, please tell me the truth. Did you put Oliver on meds?”

Felicity watched the girl’s eyebrow rise in question, and she cringed at Thea’s persistence. And Felicity realized something right then…something she hadn’t even considered before. As much as Thea obviously loved her brother, and as much as Moira and Robert obviously loved their son, Oliver had opened himself up to their scrutiny tonight. He’d opened himself up to a veritable firing squad, by putting his love for her on the table – almost literally – in front of his entire family.

Felicity hadn’t taken the magnitude of that fact into account before now, because she’d been so caught up in how this night was affecting _her_. But it was actually Oliver who was affected the most here. It was Oliver who was baring his heart and soul in front of the people who knew him the longest and the best. And Felicity knew that those were often the people who had the highest expectations of you, and were therefore the hardest to be vulnerable with.

She looked back to Oliver, meeting his deep blue eyes once again. Then she shook her head. “No, Thea, that’s not what’s happening here,” Felicity reassured Oliver’s sister as she eased her palm across his, trailing her fingers over his wrist and then up farther still. Felicity kept her gaze glued to his while she traced a path with her hand, all the way up to the crook of his arm.

Oliver mirrored her motions with his own hand – smoothing a trail up Felicity’s forearm, and then encircling her elbow with his fingers. They sat there together, with their arms linked, holding tight to each other’s skin. Oliver kept the focus of his entire body on her, watching her with tenderness and affection and hope.

Felicity’s eyes moved softly across his face while she spoke. “What’s actually happening here is that your brother is being so strong. And so brave. He’s courageous. He’s determined. He’s fearless. He’s…”

“Happy,” Oliver supplied, clinging to her.

“Happy,” Felicity echoed in a whisper, allowing herself the solace of this moment – this moment with her Oliver here, by her side.

He smiled into her eyes, warm and loving and boundless.

For perfect, stretched minutes, Felicity let everything else in the entire world leave her mind. She just held onto him, and looked inside him, and watched him look right back inside her. She would have been content to stay here, in this little cocoon with him, forever.

Until she realized that the table was completely silent, and had been for some time.

When Felicity finally pulled her gaze away from Oliver’s, she looked first to Thea. The girl’s lower lip quivered, and she bit into it, attempting to reign in her unfettered emotion. Felicity offered Oliver’s sister a smile, and Thea returned it in spades. And then Felicity turned her attention to the other woman at the table.

Moira Queen gazed at her son with tears in her eyes. Her breathing was shallow, and her fingers trembled on the tabletop. She brought her hand up to swipe at the moisture in her eyes. And then she looked down for a moment, taking a deep breath in as she shifted in her chair.

After another moment of silence, Oliver’s mother finally raised her glassy eyes to Felicity’s and gave her a serene smile. “Well, it’s been so wonderful to meet you this evening, Felicity. So very, very wonderful. This has been a truly enlightening experience, for all of us, I think. And I would just like to say…” Moira paused for a moment, to straighten her spine and lift her chin, “that if you aren’t pregnant yet, I hope you will be soon. Perhaps tonight.”

“Mom!” Oliver and Thea shouted simultaneously.

“Well, I think that’s our cue to exit,” Robert announced. “Come on, dear, let’s leave these two alone for…whatever they need to do.”

“ _Oh my God_ ,” Thea grunted. “I think I’m gonna die.”

Felicity understood that sentiment entirely, because she wasn’t even sure if she was still breathing at this point. Her chest had stopped moving, and her eyeballs bulged out behind her glasses, and she couldn’t form any words. If it weren’t for the sound of her heart pounding in her ears, and the feel of Oliver’s fingers gripped tight onto her forearm, Felicity wouldn’t have been sure if she was alive at all.

Robert rose from his seat, walking around the table to reach for Moira’s chair, pulling it out for her as his wife stood. Oliver repeated the same action for Felicity, rising to help her out of her chair. She allowed it, but only begrudgingly, because it meant she had to let go of his arm. But Oliver corrected that grievance almost immediately, winding his hand around her back and gripping onto her hipbone with his fingertips. He pulled her body against his while they followed his parents to the front door, and even though Felicity knew it basically looked like they couldn’t keep their hands off of each other, she still gripped the back of his shirt inside her fingers while they walked.

Moira gathered her purse from the hall table, placing the strap purposefully onto her shoulder. Robert opened the door for his wife as Moira turned her eyes back to them. “Thank you for a wonderful evening, Oliver and Felicity.”

“You’re welcome,” they said in tandem.

Moira smiled. “You coming, Thea?”

The young woman stepped up beside Felicity and shook her head. “In a minute. I drove myself here; I can drive myself home.”

“Alright dear, but don’t overstay your welcome.”

“Yeah Mom, I know. Lots of baby-making for these two to get to.”

Moira raised her brow and Robert shook his head before they moved toward the elevator.

“Bye, Mom and Dad,” Oliver called after them, just before he shut the door. He didn’t take his arm from around Felicity’s waist at all, and she felt grateful for it, especially when Thea turned toward her with a twinkle in her eye. Because Felicity had no idea what Oliver’s sister might say next.

Thea observed her for a long moment, as if making a thousand decisions at once, and then a wild grin consumed her face. “God, Felicity, you are such a breath of fresh air.”

Felicity’s heart grew and warmed instantly. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. You’re different and lovely and wonderful and…I’m sorry if I seemed a bit harsh on my brother tonight. I hope I didn’t upset you.”

“Oh, no, it’s fine. I may be an only child, but I do understand sibling rivalry.”

The young woman’s brow arched. “Rivalry? I wish. This is more like _dictatorship_. This man standing here, all adoring-and-clingy with you now, made my entire teenage life _hell_. If he’d had his way, I would have been dressed in Amish clothing and sitting behind a spinning wheel all day long.”

Oliver sighed, the heaviness of his body pressing against Felicity’s side. “I wasn’t _that_ bad, Thea.”

She smiled up at him. “I know you did it because you love me, Ollie. But you were a tyrant. You have to admit that.”

He huffed out a laugh. “Alright, maybe I was a bit of a tyrant. Just _a bit_.”

“Well, that’s more than you’ve ever admitted to before, so I’ll take it.” Thea turned her eyes back to Felicity. “You know, I really do think you’re a miracle worker. Do you want to go out for lunch and shopping sometime?”

Felicity felt herself glow. “Goodness, yes, I would love that.”

Oliver’s head tilted. “Exactly how long are you going to be in town, Thea?”

“Oh, I guess I forgot to tell you. I’m moving back to Starling next month.”

“ _What_? You’re moving back? Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“Well, I wanted it to be a surprise. I was going to tell you over dinner, but then _this_ ,” she paused her words to motion exuberantly between Felicity and him, “ _happened_ , and I was the one who was surprised.” Thea looked up to Oliver. “But don’t think for a second that I’m moving back so you can rule over me with your iron fist, big brother.”

His arm tightened around Felicity, his fingers running across her hipbone. “I won’t do that. I’m just really glad you’re going to be here with us again, and so I promise to put my iron fist away. Because I do understand that you need to be free to lead your own life.”

Thea’s green eyes widened. “Good Lord. I think you just quoted the crab from _The Little Mermaid_.”

Felicity giggled uncontrollably with that image. “Oh my God, he did,” she said between chuckles, tilting her face up to his. “But then again, he quotes movies _all_ the time.”

Oliver secured Felicity against him. “I do not quote movies _all_ the time.”

She quirked up a brow. “You do quote a lot of movies. I’m just saying.”

He growled playfully when his gaze darted to her lips, and Felicity had difficulty catching her breath. She reached her free hand to the front of his shirt, her fingers curling into the fabric in an attempt to keep herself upright. A delicious little smile pulled at the corners of his mouth while his fingers twitched against her hipbone.

“ _Okay_ , well, that’s _my_ cue to exit,” Thea huffed. “Seriously, I have felt like a fifth wheel all night long, watching the lovey-dovey couples. I mean, Mom and Dad have been bad enough all these years…but now I also have to also deal with the two of you?”

Oliver looked back to her. “Get used to it, Thea.”

She shook her head. “You people are killing me. Please tell me there are some eligible bachelors at the Starling branch of Queen Consolidated, Oliver. I’m not asking for much – I just want someone young and sweet and smart and handsome. Also, it wouldn’t hurt if he had a haunted past. But not _too_ haunted. Just, you know, mild-to-moderately haunted.”

“I’ll keep my eyes open,” Oliver grumbled.

Thea laughed, and then turned to Felicity. “It really was nice to meet you. Honestly, I can’t tell you how glad I am that you’re here.”

Felicity smiled from deep inside her heart. “Thank you. I can’t tell you how happy I am to be here.”

The bubbly young woman grinned, and nodded, before shifting her eyes up to her brother. “Walk me to the elevator?”

“Yeah, sure,” he agreed, leaning in to press a kiss to Felicity’s cheek before easing his arm away from her waist.

Felicity smiled while Thea and Oliver moved to the door, and then through it, out to the hallway. Thea waved goodbye to her, and Felicity returned the gesture.

“Be right back,” Oliver assured.

The moment the door closed behind them, all the air rushed from Felicity’s lungs.

Her mind started running a mile a minute, but it didn’t have any clue where to actually go. This night had been…bizarre. And wonderful. And fun. And scary. And perfect.

_Holy hell, how do I even begin to process all of this?_

Felicity had a few bones to pick with Oliver; that was for sure. She had some grievances to air, and some points to drive home. She knew she did.

But they all felt kind of muddled, and silly, and practically obsolete, as she thought about the words he’d spoken to her at the beginning of the evening.

_I love you, Felicity._

Her heart pounded against her ribcage as she took a few steps into his living room and then stopped to stare blankly at the wall. _I love you, Felicity_. He’d said it with such openness, with such certainty. _I love you, Felicity_.

God help her, she didn’t doubt him.

She probably should have made some sort of rational argument against a declaration that strong – hell, Oliver had even taken the time to counter an argument she _should_ have made, but didn’t – and yet Felicity still didn’t think to fight him on the words, or the boundless emotions behind them. She just accepted his declaration of love, almost instantly, because she could see the truth of it in his eyes. His adoring, breathtaking, perfect, brilliant blue eyes.

Felicity laughed a little to herself then. It was a bright, bubbly sound that drifted up from deep inside her. And it filled her entire body with joy as she stood here, in his home.

Oliver returned at that moment. He came in through the door, and shut it behind him. Then he turned to her and stopped moving. Oliver stilled his entire body as he stared into her.

_Dear Lord, those eyes of his…those adoring, breathtaking, perfect, brilliant blue eyes._

Felicity held her breath while Oliver held her with his searching gaze.

Then he smiled, just a little.

She smiled back at him.

That, apparently, was all Oliver needed.

He instantly closed the few feet that separated them, and pulled her onto his body, and banded his arms around her waist, and flattened his hands against her back. He pressed his forehead to hers, and inhaled deeply, and allowed his shoulders to fall on exhale. “God, it feels so good to have you here,” he breathed against her skin.

The words moved through her, calming and soothing, and Felicity sunk farther onto him, splaying her fingers out on his chest. “It feels good to me, too…so incredibly good.”

Oliver nodded against her before raising his head. “Thank you for coming tonight. Thank you for spending the night with my family.”

“You’re welcome,” she offered, tilting her head as she met his gaze. “Can I ask what Thea said to you in the hallway?”

Oliver pushed a curl of her hair behind her ear. “She said she thinks you’re wonderful.”

Those words plastered a smile onto Felicity’s face. “I think she’s wonderful, too.”

“She also said you’re sweet and fun and adorable and she wants to spend _oodles and oodles_ of time with you – those were her exact words.”

Felicity chuckled. “Wow, she had a lot to say.”

“She did. And that wasn’t even all of it.”

“No? What else was there?”

A grin pulled up his lips. “She said she’s never seen me happier, or more in love, in my entire life. And she said she hopes that I don’t fuck this up.”

Felicity’s brow rose above her glasses. “Oh.”

“You look surprised.”

“Yes, I’m surprised.”

“Well, I’m not. In case you couldn’t tell, my sister has always been very outspoken, especially with me.” Oliver leaned down to press his lips to Felicity’s, soft and warm and tender, before straightening to look back into her eyes. “Besides, nothing Thea said was a surprise to me. I already know that I love you more than I have ever loved anyone. And I know that I’m happier than I’ve ever been. And I agree with the not-fucking-it-up part, too.”

Felicity worked on breathing evenly as she attempted to accustom herself to how freely Oliver used the word _love_.

He traced his fingers from her ear down the column of her throat, watching the movement intently. “So are you doing okay after…everything that happened tonight? I know it was a lot all at once.”

She curled her fingers around one of the buttons on his shirt. “It _was_ quite the surprise.”

Oliver grimaced as he looked back to her face. “I’m sorry. Well, I’m not sorry about having everyone in the same room – but I am sorry I just sprung it on you like I did, without telling you. I know I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Why _did_ you do that?”

“Because I didn’t think you would come if I told you I wanted you to meet my family on our second date.”

“But why _would_ you want me to meet your family on our second date? Don’t you think that’s taking things a little fast?” The moment the words left her lips, Felicity shook her head. “Actually, now that I’ve said that out loud, I realize it’s a silly question. Because everything with us has always happened at the speed of light, and I should really be used to it by now.”

Oliver chuckled, the warm sound rumbling through his skin and into hers. “You’re right; everything does move fast between us, and sometimes it feels like a fantasy. I know you’ve always said that Blue was a fantasy – you told me that again in your office just this past Monday – and in a lot of ways that’s true. But we’re back here now, back to reality, and I want everything between us, from this point forward, to be grounded in reality. And it’s not that I don’t still want to have magic and fantasy in our lives – because I believe we can have everything – but I need you to know for certain that what we have together is real, Felicity. I need you to believe that _all_ of this is real. And honestly, I couldn’t think of anything more real in the whole world than having you meet my family.”

Felicity took a moment to absorb the beauty, and rationality, of his words. “Well, I guess I can see why you did it,” she admitted. “Although I would appreciate it if you didn’t surprise me with any more family dinners in the future. I mean, more family dinners sounds fun; I would just like to know that they’re coming.”

“I promise,” he said, smoothing his hand up and down her spine. “Was it really that bad when you found out they were all here?”

“Yes, Oliver. It was _that bad_. It freaked me out completely.”

He cringed with her acknowledgement of his misdeed, and the wounded puppy-dog look on his face made her heart squeeze in her chest. Felicity exhaled, finding it difficult to chastise him when he was obviously already punishing himself.

“Actually,” she offered, easing one hand across his heart, “the worst part of it all was that I was too stunned earlier to fully appreciate how beautiful your home is. And it is; it’s so gorgeous. Did you decorate it yourself?”

“No, I never had time for that kind of thing. I just hired a designer.”

“Oh,” she said, glancing again to his living room and realizing that, as opulently decorated as the space was, there was nothing to personalize it at all. No picture frames. No half-burned candles. No little trinkets with memories attached to them.

“Hmm,” Felicity considered, turning her face back to his, “well now that I’m thinking about it, this place could really use a few plants.”

Oliver’s arms tightened around her as he smiled down into her eyes. “You can put as many plants in here as you want to, Felicity.”

She nibbled against her lip while he gazed at her, and it occurred to Felicity just then that his home must be at least 4,000 square feet, and yet they were only occupying the tiniest little foot of it, because they were pressed up against each other as close as they could be. There were no boundaries of personal space between them anymore, if there ever had been, and the fact that she had absolutely no desire to step away from him right now should have bothered her. She knew it should have, because her entire goal here tonight was to take this slow.

But here she was, happily drowning in his eyes – and here he was, holding her tight to his chest and telling her to bring her things into his home – and Felicity just wanted to cave in and agree to anything and everything between them.

_Which would probably be bad in the long run. Wouldn’t it? Or would it?_

She hung her head, ashamed by the indecisiveness of her own mind, and then played with the buttons on his shirt, until she made the decision to change the subject. “So…how did your date with Sara go last night?”

“Oh. Well, it went just fine. Better than fine, even. Lyla was obviously nervous as hell to leave me alone with her for so many hours, but I came through; I had Sara fed and bathed and in bed before they got home. Although I did have a little trouble with the diaper changing thing.”

Felicity looked back to his face. “Was it hard for you?”

“You could say that. I’d never done it before, and even though I knew logically what to expect, it was still…something. I may have dry-heaved once or twice. But Sara thought that was hysterical, so it all worked out.”

Felicity giggled and Oliver gave her a lopsided grin.

He brought one hand to her face, to run his fingers down her cheek, while still keeping her body clamped to his own with his other hand. “Digg and Lyla were really happy with how well I did, and I offered to babysit again in a few weeks. I thought maybe you might like to join me the next time.”

Her heart stuttered a bit, and she had to clear her throat before answering. “Yeah, that’s…I think I could do that.”

Oliver smiled again, just before he pressed a kiss to her mouth. It was soft, and tender, and sweet – right up until he smoothed his tongue across the part of her lips and groaned deep in his chest. “Come with me,” he whispered. “It’s time for bed.”

Felicity’s brow shot up when she looked up to him. “Bed?”

He nodded slowly. “Yes. It’s gotten late. I think we should head to bed now.”

She shook her head immediately, trying to clear the jumbled thoughts in her brain while he studied her with calm determination. “Oliver, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

He secured her face in his large palm. “You’re right; it’s _not_ a good idea. It’s a _fantastic_ idea,” he insisted, offering up a cocky grin before taking a step back from her.

Felicity worked to keep herself physically upright without his body’s support. “I…I really can’t stay.”

“Sure you can.” He turned away from her then, and began moving through his living room, toward the back of his home. Which prevented her from having a logical, face-to-face conversation with him about this.

“ _Oliver_ ,” she protested to his confidently retreating form.

“ _Felicity_ ,” he growled in response while he continued walking away.

Her eyes widened behind her glasses when he kept going, and Felicity ground her feet into the floor. “I would like for you to _listen_ to me. I’m telling you that I _cannot_ …”

“ _You are staying the night_ ,” Oliver announced in a deep, bellowing voice, not even looking over his shoulder as he disappeared into what Felicity assumed was his bedroom.

She stood right where she was. Just staring after him. For the longest time.

_Good God, he just gave me a command._

_A command!_

_What the hell?_

Felicity bit down hard, clenching her teeth together. She glared at the empty space he’d just occupied, her eyes narrowing. Oliver could _not_ just _tell_ her what to do. He couldn’t just _demand_ that she stay the night, and then expect her to stay.

And yes, he’d demanded all sorts of things from her yesterday in her office, and she’d ended up caving in to _a lot_ of them. But Oliver commanding her to do things on a daily basis was never going to work…not if they intended to have a _real_ relationship. She couldn’t give in to this controlling behavior of his all the time. That wouldn’t do him, or her, any good.

Oliver needed to understand this.

Felicity needed to talk to him _now_ , to set him straight on some very specific things.

But unfortunately, the only way she could do that was to follow him into his bedroom. Because that’s where he was, right this minute. Which meant that’s where _she_ had to be, if she wanted to make her points of contention clear.

Felicity pulled a deep, filling breath into her lungs.

_I can do this. Yes, Oliver is intimidating. But I am a psychiatrist with years and years of experience, damn it, and I can handle this situation._

She would _have_ to handle it, because they couldn’t go on like _this_.

Taking one shaky step forward, Felicity shifted her hips in order to correct her gait. Then she managed to walk purposefully the rest of the way though his living room, and across the back hall, to the entrance of the room Oliver had disappeared into. She stopped just inside the doorway, leaning up against the frame a bit, as she stiffened her spine.

Yes, this was his bedroom. And it was spacious and decadent, with an oversized king bed boasting a huge dark cherry headboard. The inviting bedding was brilliant blue, just like his eyes – the eyes that were currently staring directly at her.

Oliver stood fifteen feet away, beside a cushioned, ornately carved chair, and in front of another door that most likely led to a master bathroom. He’d already kicked his shoes off under the chair seat, and now stood in bare feet on the lush carpet. Oliver watched her closely, but he didn’t say anything. He just continued with what he was currently doing: unbuttoning his shirt.

Felicity worked very hard to focus in on his eyes, and not let her gaze drift down to the wall of his chest, which was being bared further and further as each button came undone.

She adjusted her glasses and cleared her throat. “Oliver, what you just said to me out there wasn’t appropriate.”

He held her eyes as he undid the last button. “I am aware of that.”

Her brow quirked up at his response. “Did…did you hear me correctly? Because I said it _wasn’t_ appropriate.”

“Yes, I heard you. And I admit that it wasn’t appropriate.”

Felicity straightened from the door. “No, _seriously_. You can’t just _demand_ that I do something whenever you want it done.”

Oliver shrugged his shirt off, and laid it across the back of the chair, leaving him wearing nothing but a terribly well fitting pair of dark pants. Then he turned fully toward her. “You’re right.”

Felicity squared her shoulders as she met his penetrating gaze. “I mean, that’s not going to work _at all_. Not if you want this to be a real relationship.”

“I completely understand,” he said, bare feet now padding across the carpet toward her.

She shifted in her heels. “No, _really_. You have to listen to me _all_ the time. You have to _hear_ me, and give me a say in _everything_.”

Oliver stopped walking when he was only inches away. “I totally agree.”

Her brow rose with her chin. “Are you just agreeing with everything I’m saying right now, in order to get me to stop talking? Because that’s kind of what it feels like.”

He shook his head, slow and steady. “Not at all. I’m agreeing with everything you’re saying because _I do actually agree_ with everything you’re saying.”

Oliver reached one hand to her face, sliding his fingers up her cheek and into her hair. “I’ve been acting like a scoundrel over the past two days, Felicity. I know that. My behavior comes from desperation, but that doesn’t excuse it. Honestly, the only reason I _demanded_ that you stay the night just now was because I knew it would piss you off, and I knew you’d come in here to give me a piece of your mind. And it worked.” He stopped speaking to take a deep breath in, his shoulders relaxing on exhale as his fingers wound into her curls. “But you’re here now, with me, and that’s all I ever wanted. So…mission accomplished, and I’m going to behave myself from this point forward. I promise.”

Felicity opened her mouth, just to say something, but the words failed her when he brought his other hand to her hip, his fingers smoothing across the band of her skirt.

“I want you to be here with me,” Oliver breathed, his gaze darting to her lips and then back to her eyes. “But of course you have the right to leave. You always have the right to leave, and I understand that. I’m just hoping you won’t, because I need you here. I _need_ you, so I’m asking you to stay with me. Will you _please_ stay the night, Felicity?”

Her heart swelled in her chest while she looked up to his face. He stared into her with his deep, loving, hopeful blue, and she wanted nothing more than to say _yes_. But it just wasn’t practical. “Oliver, I love that you want me here. But even though you’re still on vacation, I’m not. Tomorrow is Friday, and I have to go to work in the morning. I actually have to wake up really early, and besides, I didn’t bring any of my personal items with me to stay the night.”

“I am well aware of the fact that you have to work tomorrow, and I fully intend to have you awake and alert and ready to go to work first thing in the morning. I have croissants and orange juice in the kitchen, and tons of coffee. And as for personal items for tonight, I’m pretty sure I’ve got that covered.”

“What do you mean you’ve got it covered?”

“Well, just…just let me double check the bathroom situation,” he said, stepping away from her to walk through the large door beside the chair.

Felicity stood, still and silent, staring after him.

_What on earth is the bathroom situation?_

Oliver came back into the bedroom a second later. “Yes, I do believe everything you need is in there. All personal items, including a nightgown.”

Her brow furrowed. “A _nightgown_?”

Oliver nodded, stepping toward her once again. “Yes.”

 _Well, that’s confusing_.

“Let me get this straight…you want me to wear a _nightgown_ to bed?”

He reached for her again, the moment she was within his grasp. His hands rested against her hips, secure but not too tight. “Yes, if that’s alright with you. I need you to be fully clothed tonight. Because I don’t want us to have sex.”

Her eyes widened behind her glasses. “You don’t?”

“No, I don’t.” Oliver released a heavy sigh while his gaze drew to her mouth. “Not that I don’t want you – God knows I would be struck by lightning if I said I didn’t want to have you in every possible way that I could. But I don’t want us to do any of that now.”

Felicity crinkled her brow. “Is this because of all the pregnancy talk that went on with your family at the dinner table? Because I promise you, I really am on birth control.”

He chuckled. “No, that has nothing to do with reason I don’t want to have sex tonight.”

“So why don’t you want to?” she questioned. Even though she wasn’t exactly sure how she’d gone from telling him she wasn’t staying the night to basically asking him for sex.

“Because this is reality, Felicity – right here and right now – and real-life couples don’t have sex every day. At least, that’s what it said online when I researched it. The statistic for the average married couple to have sex is actually just twice a week, which seems pitifully low to me, because I know I’m going to want you more than that. So if you’re willing to go against the norm and try for sex every day, I’m certainly not going to protest, because I have great faith that we could prove that statistic wrong, if we wanted to, and we can start working on proving it wrong any time you’d like, well, except for tonight, because, as I already mentioned, I don’t think we should have sex tonight, and…”

“Oliver?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re babbling a little.”

“Am I?” he asked, looking down into her eyes for a moment before he smiled. “Well, damn. I am, aren’t I? Sorry.”

Felicity returned the smile. “You don’t need to apologize to me for that. Ever.”

He leaned forward then, to press a kiss to her forehead. Felicity felt his shallow breaths moving through his chest while his lips dwelled on her skin, and she knew Oliver was nervous. He was just as nervous as she was about embarking on this journey into reality, and yet here he was, trying to stand sturdy and stable before her.

She reached out, running her hands up his bare chest, bringing her fingers to rest over his heart. Oliver sighed against her skin, and then pulled back just enough to look down into her eyes. “Will you stay here with me, Felicity? Will you please stay the night in bed with me, and let me hold you until morning?”

A smile spread her lips, because she couldn’t have stopped it, even if she wanted to. “I suppose I should go into the bathroom now,” she offered, “to try on my new nightgown.”

Oliver nodded vehemently. “Yes, that…that would be perfect.”

She kept smiling when she pulled away from him, and Oliver held her hand as long as he could. When his fingertips finally fell from hers, Felicity stepped into his master bathroom. She shut the door behind her, and slumped back against it, and exhaled.

Felicity’s eyes darted around the room. _Good golly, this place is huge_.

Her trembling fingers moved to her blouse, unbuttoning the front while she absorbed the decadence. There was a giant soaking tub, and a large rain shower, and a sink with two basins. Her eyes stopped moving when they reached the countertop. Because sitting there, lined up perfectly, were all of her personal items. It was every brand she used, in precisely the order she used them, arranged just like they’d been at Blue. Felicity marveled at the sight for a moment, and then her gaze shifted back to the edge of the bathtub, where Oliver had placed her brand of shampoo and conditioner, as well as vanilla bubble bath and two fresh candles. He’d even set a cup there to rinse her hair.

Felicity’s mouth hung open by the time she finally looked to the open shelves beside the sink, where a nightgown lay folded up, beside several pair of underwear. Stepping away from the door, she walked toward the shelves, focusing in on the impressive sight. Oliver hadn’t just bought her _several_ pair of panties. He’d bought her one of every color of the rainbow, and lined them all up in a row. And right beside them, he’d placed a neatly folded nightgown.

Felicity would have spent more time marveling over the fact that Oliver remembered every item she kept her bathroom – and that he’d spent the time to collect all of these things for her – if not for the unusual look of the nightgown he’d bought. Honestly, she’d been expecting something made of silk or satin, something soft and skimpy that would slip deliciously over her skin. But that wasn’t what this was.

Picking up the gown by the shoulders, Felicity let it unfold. The long hem fell nearly to floor as she held it up, the red-and-green checkered flannel highlighted by the white eyelet lace at the gathered collar and cuffs. _That would be the cuffs on the exceptionally long sleeves,_ she mused, wondering why on earth he wanted her to wear something this homely.

Felicity shook her head when she rested the nightgown down on the countertop. Then she removed her shirt, and her bra and heels and skirt, and slipped her underwear off. Looking to the line of rainbow panties, Felicity tried to decide which one to wear. She bit into her lip as she stood there, debating with herself. Because she knew if she thought hard enough about all the things Oliver had bought her, she would begin to feel like a kept woman. She might still think he was trying to control her, if she didn’t know better. But she did know better. She knew he didn’t want to cage her. Felicity knew, without doubt, that Oliver wanted to set her free.

Her gaze drew up then, to the large mirror over the double sinks. She stood completely naked, looking at herself. Her eyes were bright. Her cheeks were flushed. The skin across her chest was a smooth cream. It wasn’t bruised anymore; it wasn’t purple or marred.

Taking a filling breath in, Felicity allowed her mind to return to that day in the woods: the day she’d forced Oliver to take a deep, hard look at his life; the day she’d pushed him as hard as she could. It was so painful for her to do that. But she did it. She knew what he needed, so she did it. She kept at him, over and over, pushing and pushing until he reached his limit.

Felicity broke him down, and she’d expected him to explode. He did. Oliver exploded, and she’d been right there when he finally released all of that pent-up frustration and pain and self-loathing. He took it all out on her – after basically asking her permission to do so – and she’d been completely okay with all of that. Because she _needed_ to help him. And because she _wanted_ to help him.

Felicity refocused on her reflection. Standing here now, staring into his mirror, she brought her hand up to rest over her heart. She felt her strong, thumping pulse beneath her fingers. She felt her smooth, unblemished skin. It was healed now – it was completely healed.

She wanted to heal, too.

God, she wanted that so badly. And she knew the man waiting for her in the next room wanted to help her. Because he loved her.

 _Love_. Oliver _loved_ her. Felicity didn’t doubt that. She probably should doubt it, because every ounce of logic in her brain told her that two people simply cannot fall in love this quickly. But instead of doubting, she just believed. She believed in Oliver, and she believed in the beauty of the emotions that had sprung up so rapidly and wildly between them…between them _both_.

Felicity smiled at her mirror image. Then she picked up the unsightly nightgown and slipped it over her head. She pushed her hands all the way through to the ends of the lengthy sleeves, and shimmied her hips as the thick material sank nearly to her ankles. When she glanced back to the mirror, she giggled. Because she looked pretty ridiculous.

With a grin still on her face, she took the hairbrush he’d left for her and swept it through her loose curls. She took a minute to brush her teeth before slipping off her glasses and setting them down on the countertop. Finally, Felicity looked to the rainbow of panties lined up on the shelf. She tried again to decide which color to wear. And then, in a moment of perfect clarity, she decided to not wear any at all.

Her pulse skipped a bit when she pulled the door open while turning off the bathroom light. As Felicity took a step back into the bedroom, she noticed that Oliver had turned off the bright light in here, too. Now the only glow in the room came from a small lamp on one of his bed stands. Oliver lay beside it, his body bathed in the tiny yellow halo, as he rested on top of his brilliant blue comforter.

Felicity took a moment to register the fact that Oliver had changed from his slacks into a pair of black sweatpants that hung low on his hips. His chest was still bare, as were his feet, and his perfect lips pulled into a soft smile when his eyes met hers. Felicity tried to dislodge her tongue from the suddenly dry roof of her mouth while she stepped forward.

“So, how did I do?” he asked, sitting up on the bed to swing his legs over the edge. “Did I get everything you need?”

She smiled while she approached him. “Yes, you did get everything. I have to say, that was pretty impressive in there.”

Oliver reached for her hips the moment she was close enough, and pulled her between his thighs as he sat on the edge of the bed. Felicity rested her hands on his shoulders when Oliver looked up to her eyes. “I hope it was alright that I did that.”

“Yeah, it was alright,” she said, feeling his muscles relax beneath her fingers. “Although I must admit this was not the kind of nightgown I expected to find.”

He chuckled, his chest rumbling against her belly. “It wasn’t?”

“Uh-uh. Not at all. I really thought you’d opt for something silkier. And…shorter.”

“God, I wanted to pick something like that, believe me. But when I was looking at all the choices in the store, and seeing all those soft, skimpy little slips, I could just imagine fucking you in every single one of them. And that was _not_ my goal for tonight, so I had to go with something entirely different.”

Laughter bubbled up from her throat, and Felicity ran her fingers into his hair. “So you _don’t_ want to fuck me in this nightgown, I assume?”

Oliver’s gaze drifted down slowly and sinfully, over the frumpy lace collar and across the plaid flannel fabric, to the tiny swell of her belly in front of his face. Then he shook his head. “Actually, you look incredibly sexy right now. And I definitely want to fuck you in this, too.”

“ _Sexy_? Seriously? How can you possibly think I look _sexy_? You basically dressed me like a garden gnome.”

His eyes widened the moment the words left her mouth, his hands tightening hard to her hips. “Oh, sweet hell, you’re right,” he whispered, staring at her flannel-covered stomach for another minute before dragging his gaze back up to her face. He swallowed hard. “Felicity?”

“Yes?”

“I think I need more therapy. Apparently, I’ve developed a gnome fetish.”

She burst out laughing. “Yeah, that’s…that’s definitely a problem, Oliver. But don’t worry; I’ll help you get through it.”

“Thank God,” he breathed, smiling up into her eyes.

Felicity ran her fingers across his scalp, and down over his ears, and onto his stubbly jaw, and Oliver sighed with her touch. She felt his hands move from her hips to her back, hanging low on her spine as he inhaled deeply. Then his thighs tightened around hers, holding her harder in place, while he licked his lips.

“Can I just...” His words trailed off for a moment, his voice low and rough, his fingertips tracing over the natural indentation at the base of her spine. “Can I ask which color of underwear you picked?”

Her fingers smoothed across the back of his neck. “Oh, I didn’t. I’m not wearing any.”

The second the words left her mouth, Oliver’s hands drifted down. He traced across her low spine and then onto her ass cheeks, rubbing the thick material against her bare skin underneath before trailing his fingers across her hips. Felicity knew he was feeling for panty lines. And she knew he wasn’t feeling any.

Oliver’s eyes drew back to hers. His jaw clenched, and his breath caught in his throat, as he spoke to her through gritted teeth. “You’re _torturing_ me with this. You know that, right?”

Felicity didn’t stop the wicked smile that played across her lips while she gazed down into his eyes. “I _do_ know that, actually. What goes around comes around, Mr. Queen.”

His brow rose, his lips parting on a silent gasp. And then Oliver groaned, and dropped his chin down to rest his forehead onto her belly. He wrapped both arms around her, and pulled her into him, and Felicity smiled down at the top of his head while he breathed her in.

Oliver’s arms held tight to her body, gripping her hard against him, for the longest time. Felicity ran her fingers across his hair, and down his neck, and onto his shoulders. She soothed him as best she could, and soon he began to breathe slow and deep against her. His body leaned into hers while he held her in place, and Felicity smiled with the easy reassurance of his warmth. Oliver hummed in time with the touch of her fingers, and the sound lulled her, allowing her to acclimate to being in his private space.

She gave herself a moment to glance around the room. His furniture was large, and regal, all matching in deep cherry wood tones. The drapes on his windows were thick and floor length, blocking out any light from the giant double windows behind them. There was a second chair – just like the one sitting beside the bathroom door – over by the other side of the bed. Felicity could envision herself putting her clothes there each night, as she undressed and prepared for bed, and that image made her smile even as her pulse raced beneath her skin.

She forced herself to pull her eyes from the sight of that matching chair, and over to the dresser facing the end of the bed. Then her head tilted, and her eyes narrowed, as she focused in on what she saw.

 _That is…a helmet_. _An orange helmet with blue stripes._

“Oliver,” she whispered, not wanting to disturb his peaceful breathing against her tummy. “Is…is that a football helmet on your dresser?”

He didn’t move at all. He just kept holding her. “It is.”

“What’s it for?”

Raising his gaze up to hers, Oliver rested his chin against her stomach so he could look into her eyes. “Well, I remembered that a few times at Blue – when I made you come really hard – you banged your head pretty badly. And since the headboard I have is made of wood, and I intend to make you come over and over and over again in this bed, I worried that you might hurt yourself. So I got you a helmet.”

Her eyes widened exponentially. “ _Really_?”

Oliver chuckled, his shoulders rocking beneath her hands. “No, not really. That is my old football helmet. From high school.”

Felicity’s fingers squeezed tight to his skin. “It is?”

He nodded against her. “Yeah, it is.”

“Can I…can I see it?”

Oliver stared up at her for a long while before reluctantly easing his arms away from her back, relinquishing his hold. “Of course.”

Felicity placed her hand on his cheek, rubbing the scruff beneath her fingertips, while she smiled into him. Then she turned to walk the few steps to the dresser. She stared at the helmet for a long minute, at the little scratches and chips in the paint, before reaching out to pick it up. “Is this always laying here on your dresser?” she wondered, familiarizing herself with the weight in her hands.

Oliver stood from the side of the bed to walk over to her. “No…it’s never in my bedroom,” he admitted when he stepped up behind her. “Normally I keep it in the far back of my closet, way up on a shelf behind some boxes. But I dug it out today.”

Still holding the helmet tight in her hands, Felicity turned to face him. “You did?”

“Yes. I wanted to show it to you. I haven’t let anyone see it since high school. But it meant a lot to me, back then. It was something I had for myself, something independent of my family. It…it was mine, and I wanted you to see it. I don’t know why. I just did.”

Tears sprung to her eyes as she smiled up at him. Because she knew how much this part of his life had meant to him. She knew he’d given it up because he felt like it wasn’t important in the grand scheme of things. And she knew he’d lost part of himself when he did that.

Oliver’s gaze ran slowly across the smooth orange-and-blue surface. He looked so sad right at this moment, with his eyes glossed over in memories. Felicity wanted to pull him back, to bring him back to her. So she lifted the helmet up and popped it onto her head. It was enormous, and swallowed her almost completely. She had to tip her head back just to look past the open brim and up to his face.

“What do you think?” she questioned with a grin. “Do I look fashionable? I could probably pair this with some wood shoes, if need be. All of that, on top of my gnome nightgown, would be quite the sight. I don’t know how you could _possibly_ resist me then.”

Oliver laughed. Except it was more like a half-laugh, half-smile, half-cry, and it called straight to her heart. He reached out to ease her hair past her shoulder, and ran his fingers down her arm to her lace-framed wrist before dropping his hands to his sides. “Actually, Felicity, I do know why I wanted you to see this.”

“Why did you?”

“Because I love you. I love you, and I want to share everything with you.”

Her breath hitched as she looked into his tender, adoring eyes. Felicity reached up to pull the helmet off of her head, brushing back her hair with one hand while she secured the helmet in the crook of her arm. Then she stared mutely up at him, with her pulse bounding beneath her heated skin.

Oliver’s shoulders fell on a sigh. “Does it…does it scare you when I say I love you?”

“No,” she admitted, pushing the word past the lump in her throat. “It doesn’t scare me at all; it honestly doesn’t. But that truth is frightening in itself, because logically, it _should_ scare me. Because it’s not normal to fall in love after only being together for a few days.”

“You’re right; it’s not normal. Nothing about this is normal,” Oliver agreed, his eyes wandering across her face. “But I think that’s why I trust it so much. I’ve never just gone with my emotions, Felicity. Not once in my entire adult life. I’ve always thought in practical terms, always tried to make sensible decisions. And all it ever made me was lonely and miserable. So now, finally, I’m going to go with what _feels_ right.”

Those words soothed her as much as they concerned her, and Felicity bit into her lip while she stared up into his eyes.

Reaching out to her face, Oliver pulled her lip from her teeth and then smoothed his thumb across her jaw. “Are you still worried that I’m suffering from erotic transference?”

Felicity shook her head. “No. I don’t doubt your love for me. I can see it in your eyes, and hear it in your voice, and feel it in your arms. I know you love me.”

He smiled softly. “Good. I’m glad you know it,” he said, his eyes glancing down to watch her fingers squeeze around the edge of his helmet. “But you still seem worried.”

“I am. I’m worried that maybe _you’re_ not the one suffering from a syndrome.”

His brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“It’s just that all of this has happened so fast, Oliver. I told you earlier tonight that my feelings for you are powerful and overwhelming. And they are, and they _do_ scare me. Because the intensity of what I feel for you makes me wonder if _I’m_ the one with the syndrome.”

“ _You?_ ”

“Yes, me. Because you gave me just as much therapy at Blue as I gave you. You were there for me, in a million different ways, at a time in my life when I needed someone _so_ _badly_.” Her words drifted off, her voice cracking while her lips trembled. “So maybe _I’m_ the one transferring my needs onto _you_.”

Oliver stilled before her, his breaths moving short and shallow through his chest.

Felicity watched while he absorbed her words.

Then he reached out, and took the helmet from her hands, and set it back on the dresser. The next instant, Oliver stepped into her, and grabbed her face in both hands, and tilted her chin up so he could look into her eyes. “Baby, I don’t think that’s a syndrome. I think that’s how two people in a relationship work together. They fulfill each other’s needs. They rely on each other. They give each other strength. That’s what being a partner means.”

Oliver ran his hands into her hair, wrapping his fingers up inside her curls. “And you are, Felicity…you’re my partner.”

His words brought tears to her eyes, and Felicity tilted her head as she gazed up at him. “You still see this all so simply, don’t you?”

“I do. I wish you would, too. Because I love you. And it’s as simple as that.”

She laughed then. It was a pure, undiluted laugh that filled her with joy. “You are definitely a poet, Oliver. You know that, right?”

“Only when I’m with you,” he said, smiling down into her. He ran his fingers through her hair for another few minutes, until she relaxed her body onto his chest. Then he leaned into her and whispered, “Will you come to bed with me now?”

She nodded softly, watching his face light up with the movement.

Oliver allowed his hands to drop down to her fingers, entwining them in his own as he pulled her toward the right side of the bed. He eased the covers down with his left hand, revealing the fine ivory linen sheets beneath. Then Oliver turned back to look into her eyes.

“Do you remember the night at Blue when you fell asleep in my arms on your couch?”

Felicity smiled. “Yes.”

“Well, that night, I carried you into your bedroom, and laid you on your comforter, and covered you with a blanket. I stood there for a minute, watching as you curled up on your side, and the only thing I wanted in the entire world at that moment was to curl up with you.”

“Like a big spoon?”

“Yeah, just like that,” he confessed, reaching out to run his fingers down the side of her face. “But I didn’t stay that night with you, because you hadn’t asked me to. And I have always regretted not getting to hold you like that. So, if it’s okay, I’d like to do that now.”

Felicity nodded as she looked into his questioning eyes. She nodded a _lot_. And Oliver smiled in response, and then stepped back to allow her entry into his bed.

She climbed right in, and plopped down on her left side, resting her head on the sinfully soft pillow. Oliver covered her with the blankets, and then moved back around to the other side of the bed, shutting off the little lamp before climbing under the sheets himself. Felicity felt the mattress indenting beneath her, pulling her just slightly backwards, while Oliver lined his body up against hers in the darkness. She felt the pillowcase beneath her cheek, and the soft linen sheets beneath her hands, and Oliver’s warmth as his body pressed gently up onto her own.

The moment his chest met her spine, he leaned down to place a kiss in her hair.  

“How is this, Felicity? Is it comfortable?”

“Yeah, it’s perfect,” she admitted, because it was. This was the first time she’d ever laid in his bed, and yet it was instantly familiar, and easy, and wonderful.

“You know,” Oliver whispered beside her cheek, “I feel like I need to apologize again, for acting like a scoundrel the past few days.”

She smiled into the pillow. “Thank you for the apology.”

“No, thank _you_ for not calling the security guards on me in your office yesterday. I have to admit, I wasn’t absolutely, completely positive about what your choice was going to be there. I just had really high hopes that I wasn’t going to be dragged away from you by two big, burly men. Because that didn’t sound like fun at all.”

“It didn’t?”

Oliver chuckled, his hand finding it’s way to her hip, his fingers pressing the flannel nightgown against her bone. “No, not at all. Although I must admit I’m glad you have them there in the building; I like knowing that you’re safe.”

“Yes, it is nice having two big, burly men at my beck and call,” she kidded, closing her eyes and concentrating on the feel of his body behind her.

“Hmm,” Oliver grumbled against her, his fingers tightening on her hipbone. “What about me? Am I big and burly enough for you?”

Felicity felt him slide his chest down her back and she sighed into her pillow. “God, yes, you are,” she breathed, barely able to get the words past her lips.

Oliver pressed his lips to her neck and smiled into her skin. “Good.”

She giggled when she felt his smile, and stilled as he placed more kisses into her hair. And then she told him the truth. “You are just…everything I could ever possibly need or want.”

He froze in place for a second, and inhaled slowly, absorbing the words. Then he rested his cheek against hers, scratchy to soft, and whispered, “I feel exactly the same way about you.”

Felicity exhaled into the cool, dark air, letting her body sink into the mattress.

Oliver kissed her cheek, his lips lingering against her skin as his fingers ran a soothing path up and down her thigh. He kissed her and touched her for a long time, until eventually his arm came to rest around her waist, with his hand on her belly, and his head settled onto the pillow behind her. Felicity snuggled farther back against him.

Everything here right now was so soft and comfortable and safe. The house, the room, the bed – all of it. Everything here was safe, because it was Oliver’s, and because he was here with her, with his arms wrapped securely around her. Felicity sighed contentedly, and felt his arm drape even heavier against her, his hand pulling her closer up onto his chest. This was the safest she’d felt in the last six months. She knew it was.

She could feel the steady thump of her heart beating inside her chest, and the reassurance of his solid body supporting her backbone, and her mind returned to the thought she’d had earlier in the bathroom: _I want to heal. God, I want to heal so badly._

Felicity took deep breaths in, trying to fortify her will. The exaggerated movements of her struggled inhales started Oliver’s hand moving again, across her stomach to her hip, and then up and down her thigh. His touch was warm and peaceful and perfect. And absolutely safe.

She concentrated on that touch. Then she licked her lips and cleared her throat.

“You know, Oliver…the security guards haven’t always been there.”

“They haven’t?”

“No. It’s just been for the past six months.”

Her voice broke a little on those words, and Oliver’s hand stilled on her leg. “Just for the past six months?” he repeated, his breaths coming shallower to his lungs.

Felicity tried to focus on the feel of his chest against her back. “Yes. The manager of the office building decided to put in security measures six months ago. After it all happened.”

Oliver’s fingers squeezed gently onto her thigh as he spoke to her in a soft whisper. “After what happened?”

“It’s…the thing that happened,” she said, trying to explain but finding herself at a loss for words. “I can’t tell you too many specifics, because he was a patient. He was a patient of mine.”

Oliver raised his head off the pillow again, and pressed his chest farther up to her spine, meeting the backs of her legs with his thighs. “I understand, Felicity. And I’m here to listen to whatever you want to say.”

She nodded her head against the pillowcase, feeling the softness of the fine fabric against her skin. Breathing in deep, she filled her lungs with the scent of Oliver’s body as it pressed so firmly up against her own. And then she closed her eyes and began talking.

“I can’t tell you his name, so I’m just going to call him Simon. And I want you to know that he was a good person. Simon was a good man. He’d just had a lot of problems in his life, and they’d led him down a dark path…a path that he struggled every day to come back from.

“He came to me at first because of a drug problem. He’d been to several other doctors, to try to break the pattern of addiction, but he just couldn’t resolve it. So he came to me, telling me that he was at the end of his rope, and I did my best to become the person he needed me to be at that point in his life – the person he could rely on. And he did. He began to rely on me, and he began to open up to me, and we started reaching into all the things that had happened to bring him to this place he was in.

“So much had happened to him as a child. So many horrible things – unspeakable things. It took years for him to confide in me, years for him to work through his addictions. Because it wasn’t just drugs he’d become addicted to. He had so many addictions, so many needs that invaded his life in so many ways.

“I tried to help him with all of it, little by little, piece by piece. And he made a lot of progress in the years he was with me. After a while, he managed to hold down a steady job, and get an apartment on his own. He even found a girlfriend. A woman he loved, even if he wasn’t sure he deserved her love in return. But he was trying. He was really trying.

“And he was doing so well that I thought we could take the next step. I thought I could push him to the next stage. I thought I could push him to really take a deep, searching look at the cold, hard truths in his life. Because sometimes, as a psychiatrist, you have to do that. Sometimes you have to push a person until they break, so that you can help them rebuild…so that you can guide them to fix themselves, and to have a better life. So I pushed him. I pushed Simon hard, and he broke, Oliver. He broke.

“I remember feeling relieved when it happened, because I knew I could finally truly help him. I just knew I could help him to put his life all the way back together. After that moment when he broke, I stayed with him, long after our session was over, just making sure he felt stable and well enough to make it home. And I cleared my schedule for the following morning, so that I could see him again. I was actually really excited to see him again. I was so ready to start helping him heal.”

Felicity clutched the sheets beneath her hands, curling her fingers into fists, her breaths coming faster to her lungs as she worked to continue speaking. “And I could tell that something was off with him, the moment he stepped into the room the next day. But I figured that was to be expected, because we were starting out on a new path. We were starting this journey of healing together, and I was so eager to do that. So I stood from my desk, and I went to step toward him, to sit with him on the couch. And that’s…that’s when he pulled out the gun he had in his coat pocket.

“I didn’t even have time to react. I didn’t have time to lunge for it, to try to disarm him. I didn’t have time for anything, because he didn’t say a word…he just lifted the gun, and pointed it to his temple, and looked into my eyes, and pulled the trigger.”

Her knees pulled up to her chest then, shrinking her body into a ball while the pain in her gut sliced through her insides. She curled up as tight as she could, as small as she could, while the memories shoved their way back into her mind.

The instant Felicity bent in on herself, Oliver wrapped his body around her. He pressed his chest to her back, and pushed his thighs up against her legs, and banded his arm around her chest. He enclosed her body inside of his, firm and solid.

“There was so much blood,” she whimpered, choking on her own words. “On the wall and floor and the desk and on me…there was blood and brains just spattered everywhere.”

Tears streamed from her face as she pulled her knees up higher to tuck her chin down against them. “And then he just fell, Oliver…he just fell to the floor. Lifeless. Instantly lifeless. And I had to take off my glasses, because I couldn’t see through all the red on them, and I crouched down beside him, hoping I could help. I shook him. And I begged him. But he was gone. He was just gone.”

Felicity coiled up even tighter, trying like hell to hold the pain inside. And the stiffer she coiled, the firmer Oliver held her, encasing her entire quaking, crumbling body inside the warmth and strength of his own. Felicity felt him holding her, felt him grounding her to this room, to this bed, to this earth, and so she allowed the salty, stinging wetness run from her cheeks, spilling into the pillow.

“ _He trusted me_. He trusted me, and I failed him. I failed him in every possible way.”

“No, Felicity, you didn’t…”

“Yes, I did. I _did_. And the question I asked myself, again and again for months and months, was if I could fail that completely…then what was it all for? All the years of schooling and training and experience, all the hours and hours of sitting in my office behind that desk…what good did it do anybody, if I could lose someone right in front of my eyes?”

Felicity shook, all over, as the sobs wracked her body, and Oliver clung to her with every part of himself. He just _engulfed_ her, and every muscle in his body trembled with the effort of holding her tight without harming her. Felicity could feel his struggles, and she could feel the security of his strength and his warmth and his love. And she wasn’t quite sure why he was still here, loving her, but she was so, so grateful for it.

“After Simon died,” she continued when she caught her breath, “I lost all confidence in myself, in my abilities. And I just knew my other patients would see that. I figured they would see me as a fraud, and they would stop coming. But they didn’t. They just kept coming, and trusting me with their problems, and allowing me to see their fears, and letting me hold their fragile hearts in my hands. And I wanted to help them. God knows I wanted to help them. But I just couldn’t. I couldn’t do what needed to be done.

“Because sometimes I need to break people down, Oliver. Sometimes I need to poke a grizzly bear with a stick, or blow up a powder keg to see what’s inside. But I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t break anyone else; I couldn’t push my patients in the way they needed to be pushed. Not since that day with Simon. And I knew I was failing them. I was failing _all_ of them. They needed me to guide them and direct them and they needed me to push them, at times. And I just couldn’t. Not after what happened that day in my office.”

Felicity swallowed hard against the acid forcing its way into her throat. “I…I actually wasn’t able to push anyone again. Not until that moment in the forest with you. As I lay there with you, and I listened to you tell me everything that happened with Carrie, I realized that you’d abandoned the joy and the hope in your life, in order to be what you thought she would want you to be. That hurt me. It hurt me so badly, to know how deeply you were hurting. And that’s when I found the courage to push again. Because you needed that. You were suffering, and you were dying, and you needed me to push you. So I did. And it was hard. It was _so damn hard_. But I did it, because I wanted to be there for you, in every possible way.”

She paused her words because she had to, because she had to take a moment to breathe.

Oliver reached one hand her face, smoothing her hair back from her wet cheeks. “You _were_ there for me, Felicity. You were there for me in every way. And you still are. Every minute, every _second_ of the day since the moment you laid eyes on me, you have been there for me. I know that. I know it like I know my own name. I don’t know if I _deserve_ it, but…”

“Don’t deserve it? What are you talking about? Didn’t you just hear me? I’m a _failure_ , Oliver. A failure.”

He leaned down, resting his cheek beside hers. “No, baby. One loss doesn’t make you a failure.”

Felicity shook her head, not sure if she could handle his understanding right now.

“I went to Simon’s funeral, you know. I went to the graveside, and I stood in the back, while his friends and family mourned him. I felt like I needed to be there, but I didn’t want to upset anyone, so I just stayed on the outskirts. But his girlfriend…she saw me, and she knew who I was. So she came walking up to me, after the service was over.

“I expected her to yell at me. I expected her to call me a fraud, and to say that she planned to sue me for malpractice. I was ready to hear all of that. But instead, she threw her arms around me. She hugged me so tightly, and she _thanked_ me. ‘Thank you for getting him through the past few years.’ That’s what she said to me. And then she just walked away, and left me there, speechless.

“I didn’t understand how she could do that – how she could say that to me. I didn’t understand how she could give me that forgiveness, when I knew I couldn’t ever possibly forgive myself. I still don’t know if I understand it.”

Felicity choked on another sob, and Oliver blew out a breath. It was a frustrated exhale, and Felicity felt him drop his forehead into her temple. She could feel Oliver working to control the tension in his body, and she was more grateful than ever for the strength of his will as he kept her wrapped up inside his embrace.

“It was a week before I could go back to my office,” she continued, pressing her eyes shut tight. “Because they had to remodel the entire inside. They pulled up the carpet, and put wood paneling on the walls, and brought in a new couch. They cleaned it all up, and when they were done, they told me to come back. So I did. I went back to work. And from the moment I walked into that office again, everyone treated me differently: the building manager who installed the security measures; the other doctors in my practice who reached out to me professionally; and Marie, who just wanted me to feel better. God, poor _Marie_. She’d been right outside the door when it all happened, and she was the first person to run into the room. She saw me there, covered in blood, and she’s never looked at me the same way since.”

Oliver brushed his hand across her forehead. “How do you think she looks at you now?”

“Like I’m breakable. They all looked at me the same way when I went back to work – like I’m broken. But I didn’t want that. I wanted to still be brave and strong, and to give people what they needed, if I could. I wanted to still be a doctor, because I’d devoted my life to it, and it was really the only thing I knew how to do.

“So I went to John. I went to your best friend, and I asked him to help me with the stress. Because I was having trouble sleeping. And I was having trouble while I was awake. And I was having trouble understanding why the other patients still came to see me, and why I had a backlog of people waiting for my help, when I was obviously such a failure.

“John, he…he helped me. He listened, and he gave me good advice. He said all the things he should have said. He said all the things I knew he was going to say, because I’d studied PTSD and I knew what I was feeling and how I was _supposed_ to fix it. But knowing _how_ to fix something and actually _fixing_ it are two very different things. Especially when I swore I could still see Simon’s blood on the wall, day after day, as I sat behind my desk.”

Felicity closed her eyes tight against the images that burned in her brain – the images of blood and pain. The images she’d fought so hard to keep at bay. Even though she never, ever fought the tears that spilled so frequently during the past six months.

“That’s when I started bringing the plants into my office,” she breathed, the weary sound of her voice carrying in the darkness. “At first it was just a few, to cover up the blood stains that I could still see on the walls, even though they weren’t there anymore. The plants made me feel better; they changed the color of the wall, so it didn’t all look red to me. So I kept buying them. I just bought more and more, until they filled half the room. And then one evening, when I’d finished my workload for the day and sat alone at my desk, I stared at the wall of plants I’d gathered. I stared and stared and stared, until I realized that I’d created a makeshift forest, right there in my office. It was just like Blissful Blue…just like I remembered the forest being, back when I was a new doctor, wide-eyed and excited about treating my own patients. And it was also like the forest I remembered as a child, as a Girl Scout.

“That was the moment I knew. I knew I had to go to Blue, to get myself back into that forest. I knew I needed to try to return to my roots, and to be the happy, carefree, adventurous person I’d been…the person who believed that I could do anything I set my mind to. I _needed_ to be that person again, even if it was only for a few weeks.

“So I begged Dr. Lance to let me turn part of my scheduled work time there into vacation time. I begged him and begged him, until he finally agreed, provided I met his conditions. And I accepted all of them. I agreed to all his terms, just for the opportunity to be in those woods. Because when I sat in my office – when I sat at that desk – I felt like I was dying. I felt like everything I’d created for my life was a lie, and I was dying just like my father did, on the desk in his office.”

Felicity shivered, and Oliver’s body tightened around her.

“I bided my time then, surviving as best I could, until the day I got to go to Blue. And I still felt like a fraud, for the first week I was there. Because so many of the patients had come to see _me_ , and I didn’t even know what I could do for them. I still doubted what I was capable of.

“That first week was really hard to get through. But I was able to spend some time with Pete, and with Betsy, and with Roy, and they still loved me and trusted me – which made things better _and_ worse, all at the same time. But I found a way to settle myself. I wandered through the woods, every afternoon, and reminded myself of all the beauty I’d seen in the forest as a child. I brought along my camera, and took pictures of the trees and the birds, and remembered how I’d dreamed about discovering the purple fantini…back when I was a believer. And then, two nights before my vacation started, I sat down and wrote a lecture about appreciating all the little things in life. I wrote it from my heart, and I tried to wrap my mind around it.

“I gave that lecture the next day. The patients loved it. They thanked me for it. And then they told me how upset they were that they wouldn’t get to have any more sessions with me for those next two weeks. And I just smiled at them, and assured them that I would be back. Because I hoped I would be. I hoped I _could_ come back. I hoped I could be the person they all needed me to be – the strong and sure Dr. Felicity Smoak. But I didn’t know if I could ever be her again. At least…not until I met you. Not until I helped _you_.”

Felicity stilled herself for a moment, just to concentrate on the feel of him surrounding her. She needed to know, without doubt, that he was still here. Because she needed him to understand, truly _understand_ , the gift he’d given her up on that mountain.  

“I have told you many times that you helped me so much when I was at Blue, Oliver. I know I’ve told you that again and again. And I just hope you can see now why it’s true. Because I don’t think I could have come back here to Starling, and believed in myself enough to walk back into that office, if it weren’t for you. I don’t think I could have found a way to be that person again without your help. So thank you. Thank you so much. For everything.”

Felicity stopped talking then.

She stopped speaking and just lay there, beneath his thick arm, with his warm body curled around hers. She lay there and listened to the air leaving his lungs on short exhales. Oliver’s breathing was labored, and he could have been on the verge of tears. Or he could have been angry. Felicity didn’t know. And she couldn’t see, because the room was so dark and she was turned away from him.

Part of her feared what he might say next. Part of her feared that he would finally acknowledge all of her faults, and all of her failures, and all of her weaknesses, and realize that she wasn’t perfect at all, and ask her to leave. That was the fearful part of her.

But the other part of her – the part that trusted in his love for her and in her love for him – knew that he would stay here with her, and support her, and keep her safe in his heart and his arms. And that was the part of her she decided to depend on.

Finally, after forever, Oliver raised his head, and leaned in, and pressed a kiss to her temple. His hand began a slow, steady path of movement, up and down her arm, as he kept her coiled body surrounded by his. And then he took a deep breath in and spoke softly into the cool, dark air.

“Felicity, you once told me that intelligence comes with responsibility. But, the thing is…I don’t think that’s true. I wish it were. I wish that all the intelligent people in the entire world would use their gifts to help others. But that’s not the case, not for a lot of people. But you…you are like that. You took that mind of yours, the one your father fostered, and you added it to all the heart and warmth your mother nurtured, and you decided to become someone people could depend on. You decided to use all your gifts to help everyone else, and that’s an incredible thing. People see that. They see that your heart is so giving, and that your mind is just astonishing, so they keep coming back to you, and they keep trusting you, because they know you’re worth that trust. They know you deserve their trust. And you do – you deserve their trust.”

Oliver ran his hand back down her arm, all the way to her hand. And then he threaded their fingers together, and held tight to her skin. “But that’s not all you deserve,” he whispered, his warm breath moving beside her ear. “You also deserve to be happy.”

A sob snuck its way out of her throat, adding several more tears to the pillowcase beneath her cheek. “Are you…are you sure about that, Oliver?”

“I am. I’m absolutely, positively, completely sure.”

She smiled even as the fresh wetness soaked into the linen. “That makes it sound like you’re fairly certain.”

“Unconditionally, unquestionably, undeniably certain,” he insisted, his voice soft and soothing inside her mind. “This thing that happened to you, Felicity…it wasn’t your fault. What Simon did wasn’t your fault, any more than what Carrie did was my fault. And I know you probably don’t believe that, because you hold yourself so deeply accountable, but I hope one day you’ll accept it, and forgive yourself. Because you deserve to be happy.”

Felicity squeezed her eyes shut tight, forcing several more tears out. “I want to believe you, Oliver.”

“Then believe me. You deserve to be happy, baby. And I know I’m repeating myself now, but I want to make sure you hear me. You deserve to be happy, and I just want the chance to show you how happy you could be…how happy we could _both_ be.” Oliver’s fingers tightened around hers. “Will you let me do that? Will you stay with me, and let me show you how happy we could be together?”

Felicity inhaled deeply, breathing him into her lungs. Then she pulled his hand up under her chin, bringing his arm farther around her chest, wrapping herself deeper inside his embrace. “Yes,” she whispered, afraid to speak too loud. “I would love to see how happy we could be.”

He pressed another kiss to her cheek before settling back down to rest his head on the pillow beside her. “I’m going to show you. I promise I’m going to show you how happy we can be. And it’s going to be amazing, just like you are.”

She pulled his hand up even closer, hugging his arm tightly to her chest. She concentrated on just breathing, in and out, as she felt Oliver’s slow exhales against her neck. His entire body remained wrapped around hers, in a tight, perfect cocoon, and Felicity knew she was already happy. She already knew this man was everything to her, and that this was exactly where she belonged.

“Oliver?” she questioned, trying to keep her voice soft while her heart beat fiercely against her chest.

“Hmm?” he answered, the sound a rumble from his chest into her back.

She smiled into the darkness. “I love you, too.”

He stilled for the beat of a second, and then curled himself even more firmly around her. “I know you do, Felicity. Although I really love hearing you say the words.”

“How long have you known?”

“A while.”

“Did you know up at Blue?”

“Yes.”

She nodded against the pillow. “You really do know me.”

“I do,” he breathed into her hair. “Now please just go to sleep, baby. Please just rest. I’ve got you.” Oliver pressed his lips into her gold curls for a long moment before settling back down beside her. “I’m right here, and I’ve always got you.”

Felicity smiled softly against the damp pillowcase. Then she closed her eyes and allowed her body to sink into the mattress. And she rested…truly _rested_ …for the first time in as long as she could remember.

...

A/N:  Thank you so much for reading, sweethearts!  I am, once again, both nervous and excited to know what you think :)Tina

Up Next...Chapter 16:  Flight


	16. Flight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Hugs and kisses for coming back, and for all the lovely comments, kudos, and follows. There are only two “real” chapters left in this fic – this one and the next – and then 18 will be a short (?) epilogue. I have to be honest, I’m getting a bit misty-eyed over this one ending, and as such the next chapters are pretty sappy. And, of course, smutty. Sap-n-smut: that’s pretty much what you have to look forward to, from here on out. Hope that’s okay. Oh, and I should probably issue a smut level warning for these next two chapters. They still don’t overstep into explicit territory, at least not in my mind, but I realize my boundaries may be different than yours…so I’ll just leave that out there :)

Felicity woke to the feeling of warmth. It surrounded her and infused her, and for a moment she thought she was back in the forest, lying on the ground, basking in the glow of sunshine on her body. But then she felt the movement of someone else with her, and she remembered exactly where she was.

Felicity lay side by side with Oliver, here in the comfort of his bed, while his hand trailed up and down her arm, soft and slow and silent. She wished she could have felt his skin directly on hers, but she still wore her lengthy plaid flannel nightgown. The material of the gnome outfit had twisted a bit against her hips, since at some point during the night she’d apparently turned herself over to snuggle into Oliver’s chest. And she was still here now, with her face buried into the crook of his neck. She lay against her right arm, but had somehow managed during the night to reach that hand far enough over to cover his heart with her fingers. Her left arm lay contentedly over her side, being slowly petted by Oliver’s gentle hands, as his warmth enveloped her entire body.

“Mmm,” she hummed into his shoulder, currently unable to explain in words just how soothing and wonderful he felt beside her.

“Morning, baby,” Oliver whispered, his voice easy and lulling. “Did you sleep okay?”

She nodded, her forehead rubbing against his neck. “Yeah. Better than I’ve slept in a really long time.”

“Good.”

His fingers trailed down her arm again, and across her lace sleeve cuff, shifting her hand against her hip. Oliver breathed slow and steady, his chest moving consistently against her, and Felicity stretched her fingers out to better feel his heart beneath her palm. Prying her eyes open, she registered the tiniest bit of light in the bedroom. The small glow of morning sun filtered softly onto them both, enabling her to see the shadows of defined muscle on his chest.

Slowly and reluctantly, Felicity pulled herself away from the nook she’d burrowed into against Oliver’s shoulder. She eased her head back, and rested her cheek onto the pillow beside him, and looked to his face. His eyes fixed on hers in the dim light.

“Hey,” she said, looking deep into that brilliant blue.

Oliver adjusted himself onto his own pillow. “Hey.”

“Have you been awake for long?”

“A while.”

Her fingers shifted over his heart. “A while? Why didn’t you wake me sooner?”

“You looked peaceful. I wanted you to rest.”

Felicity’s pulse stuttered as memories seeped back into her brain – not memories of the harried and bizarre dinner with Oliver’s family, or of his demands that she stay the night with him, or of the impressive collection of her personal items in his bathroom. All of those things sat somewhere in the back of her mind, but they weren’t what pulled to the forefront here, now, while she looked into his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Felicity whispered, because she needed him to know.

Oliver’s brow furrowed, his hand stilling on her arm. “Why are you sorry?”

“I’m sorry if you were lying here awake because you were worried that I would leave you again, like I did up at Blue.”

He watched her for a long moment before giving her a gentle smile. “Well, I’d be lying if I said that isn’t a sore spot for me. But only because waking up in that bed without you felt tantamount to being drawn and quartered.”

Felicity grimaced. “I’m sorry, again. If it helps, leaving you that day tore me apart, too.”

Oliver’s hand moved to her face, his fingers smoothing across her cheek. “Actually, that doesn’t help at all. Because I never want you to hurt. Ever. But honestly, I’m not lying here awake because I thought you might leave. After last night, I knew you would stay with me.”

“Good. I’m glad you knew. But then why _are_ you lying awake so early in the morning?”

He eased his fingers across her jaw, and over her neck, and onto her shoulder, watching the movements intently. “I was just thinking.”

“Thinking? About what?”

“About…a million different things.”

“A million?”

“Possibly a million and one.”

“That’s a lot of thinking.”

“It is.”

She shifted her head against the pillow, focusing on his eyes. “Care to share any of it?”

Oliver took a deep breath in, and released it, resting his shoulders down further into the mattress. “I’ve thought a lot about what you told me last night – about what happened with you and Simon.”

Felicity pinched her eyes shut, her fingers balling up on his chest. Pain shot through her body, flashing sharp and cold beneath her skin, until she concentrated on the feel of Oliver’s hand press into her shoulder, holding her steady. Then she inhaled, and opened her eyes back up, and looked into him. “What did you think about it?”

“I think it’s brave that you shared it with me.” His hand moved back to her face, his fingers tracing the edge of her lower lip. “Thank you.”

“Y-you’re welcome.”

Oliver gave her a little smile before his body stilled. “You know, Felicity…Digg has lost patients, too.”

She watched him for a long moment, letting the words sink in. Then Felicity nodded against her pillow, because John had told her that himself, when she went to talk to him. And remembering John’s pain, and her own, made her breaths come shallower to her chest.

“There’s been a least two patients that I know of,” Oliver continued, running his hand into her hair. “Because I remember the change in his personality afterward. Digg couldn’t tell me any specifics, of course, so I don’t know if he’s lost anyone right in front of his eyes like you have, but I know he’s lost them. And I know how deeply it affected him.”

Oliver’s fingers wrapped into her curls as his voice moved softly beneath her skin. “When I think about it, I can see that what you’ve both chosen to do as a profession is difficult. Honestly, it’s probably one of the hardest jobs on the face of the planet. You put yourself right into the chaos of a person’s life and that is a damn scary place to be, because no matter how hard you try, ultimately you can’t _make_ anyone live if they don’t want to. So that’s the thing with what you do…sometimes you lose.”

Felicity cringed with those words, but she kept her focus on Oliver, searching for some sense of shame or disillusionment with her. But there was nothing in his eyes but support, and understanding, and love. So she calmed her breathing and kept her ears and heart open.

His fingers left her hair in order to trail down her arm and over her hand. Then he grasped her fingers inside his own, winding them together. “Honestly, I wouldn’t have blamed you, at all, if you’d chosen to give up after what happened. I wouldn’t have blamed you if you never returned to your office again.” Oliver’s gaze wandered over her face, memorizing her. “But that wasn’t your choice, Felicity. You went back. I can’t even really fathom the amount of courage it took for you to return to that room and sit there, day after day, treating people in a place where something so horrible happened. Honestly, I’m in awe of you.”

Felicity felt a smile pull up her lips.

Oliver held tighter to her hand. “But that also makes me feel guilty as hell.”

“Guilty? Why on earth would you feel guilty?”

“About how I acted in your office on Wednesday. If I’d known – if I’d had any idea of what happened to you in that room – I swear I wouldn’t have acted that way.”

She shook her head against the pillow. “You don’t need to feel guilty.”

“I’m pretty sure I do. I blindfolded you and tied you up on your desk. And then I had my way with you, right there where you take care of your patients.”

The memories of all that had happened in her office filled Felicity’s mind, and she shifted closer to him. “Oliver, please understand that you don’t need to feel guilty. Because the moments I spent with you that day were the first good moments I’d had in my office in six long months. It was the first time since Simon died that I actually went for a span of time _without_ thinking about him. And honestly, when you had me tied up on that desk, I was…happy.”

“You were _happy_? Really?”

Felicity grinned. “Well, it was a sexually-induced happiness. But yes, it was happiness.”

Oliver played with her fingers while gazing at her curved lips. “I’m glad I could make you happy. Although nothing about it was happy for Marie, I imagine.”

“Are you worried about how Marie is doing?”

“Yes. I feel so bad about how I acted with her. She must have been terrified, seeing me barge into your office that day with a briefcase full of God-knows-what.” Oliver heaved out a breath. “That woman is never going to like me, is she? No matter what I do.”

Felicity tried to give him a reassuring smile. “You know what? I bet she’ll get past it all, once she sees just how happy you make me. I think she’s already starting to see that.”

“You think so?”

“I do. Plus, all those flowers you sent her yesterday didn’t hurt, either.”

Oliver cringed. “What else does she like? Maybe…chocolate?”

A laugh sprung up from Felicity’s chest, the sound so welcome to her ears. “That might just work.”

He reached back to her face, sliding his fingers up her cheek. The soothing motion coaxed a sigh from her throat, and Oliver watched the air puff from her lips as he traced a path across her jaw. “What about you, Felicity? What can I do to make it up to you, for acting demanding and controlling and tying you up on your desk?”

She smiled into his eyes. “You don’t have to make that up to me.”

“Are you sure? I’m feeling pretty guilty about it at the moment. You could probably ask me for anything in the entire world right now and I would give it to you.”

Felicity reached up to cover his hand where it lay against her cheek. “I don’t think you understand, Oliver. What you gave me that day was just what I needed.”

“What did I give you?”

“You gave me a good memory. A good memory in place of a bad one.”

“Do you really feel that way?”

“I really do,” she admitted, squeezing her fingers against his warm, perfect skin. “Oddly enough, the whole bondage-thing seems to work well for me. I mean, when I tied you up, you gave me back the color red. And when you tied me up, you took a horrible memory and replaced it with a happy one.”

Oliver’s fingers shifted against her cheek as he smiled. “I guess good things do happen when we tie each other up,” he considered, the sweet grin on his face morphing slowly into something a bit more…wicked. “So, does that mean you’ll let me tie you up again one day?”

“Do you _want_ to tie me up again?”

“Well, I mean, I promised you last night that I would stop acting like a scoundrel, and I meant that. But since me tying you up was actually a _good_ memory for you, then if you’d like me to still be my demanding, controlling self – on occasion – I could certainly do that.”

She bit her lip to keep from grinning wildly. “Hmm. We’ll see, Oliver. Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“Yes, maybe. Possibly.”

“Just possibly?”

She traced her hand over his wrist and across his arm. “Alright…probably.”

“I’ll take probably. Unless you want to change it to definitely.”

Felicity couldn’t fight back her wild grin any longer. “Okay then, _definitely_. But only when I say so.”

Oliver nodded against his pillow. “Yes, Ma’am. I will only be controlling and demanding when you desire me to be. And I swear I will wait for your approval. Although I think we should have a code phrase or something, in case you ever want to use it.”

“A code phrase?”

“Yeah. You could say, ‘Oliver, I want my scoundrel now,’ or something to that effect.”

Felicity laughed, deep and joyous, with his words. And then she shook her head, because she honestly didn’t know how Oliver could make her feel this wonderful after the pain she’d shared with him just hours before. So she settled further into the mattress beside him, her eyes roaming across every little contour of his face: the angle of his jaw, the stubble on his chin, the arch of his brow, the depth in his eyes.

He grounded her cheek in his large palm. “What are you thinking, Felicity?”

She sighed, burrowing her cheek into his hand. “I’m just thinking how amazing it is that you’re still here with me this morning.”

“Of course I’m still here. That story you told me last night…it tortured me. Because I hate the thought of you being in pain. But even though I never want you to hurt again, I do understand that we all have our crosses to bear. And I have to say that whatever experiences you’ve had to go through in your life, I’m glad you did. Because they made you the person you are today. And you know how I feel about her.”

Felicity’s heart swelled tight in her chest, and she reached up to touch his face, holding him as steady in her hand as he held her. “I do know how you feel. And you know that you are everything I could ever possibly need or want, right?”

“I do know that. You told me just last night.”

“Well, good. I’m glad you didn’t forget.”

“I could never forget. As long as you don’t forget that I feel the same way about you.”

“I won’t forget,” she promised, her hand edging over the coarse scruff on his jaw before she allowed her fingertips to trace across his lips. Oliver sighed with the motion, and Felicity felt her entire body pulling toward his. She wanted to give in to that pull – to the longing and need inside her – that guided her toward him always. But Felicity stopped herself before she edged forward and sunk into his chest. She didn’t reach for him at all, because Oliver didn’t reach for her at all.

Instead of moving toward her, Oliver pulled his hand away, allowing it to fall from her face and land on the mattress between them. Felicity mirrored that motion, dropping her hand onto the sheets as well. Then she looked to his eyes and stilled.

They lay side by side on the bed, staring into each other. Their bodies rested just inches apart, and Felicity could feel his warmth infusing the thick air between them. Her gaze drifted to Oliver’s mouth and she licked her lips, which drew his attention to the motion of her tongue. Oliver inhaled sharply, his chest muscles tightening as he focused closely on her wet skin. By the time he drew his eyes back to hers, his gaze was dark and intense and aching.

She took a shaky breath in. “What are you thinking about now, Oliver?”

“I’m thinking about how desperately I want to kiss you.”

An involuntary whimper escaped her throat. “So why don’t you?”

Oliver held stone still for a long minute, with his jaw clenched hard, before he answered. “Because if I start kissing you, I sure as hell am not going to want to stop there. And I know you have to go to work this morning, so I’m trying to be good.”

Felicity exhaled. “Well, I can certainly see your point. You did promise to have me awake and alert for work. With croissants and orange juice and coffee, if I remember correctly.”

“I did promise you all of that. And I will keep to my word.”

“You’re a good man,” she offered, knowing it was the absolute truth. Although she was about five seconds away from uttering the phrase: _Oliver, I want my scoundrel now_.

He eased his hand out, tentatively, to trace over the frumpy lace at the collar of her gnome nightgown. “So, I guess we’re in agreement, then? Absolutely no kissing this morning?”

“Lord, that is just what I should say, isn’t it? I should say absolutely no kissing.”

Oliver tugged a bit against the lace at her throat. “Yes, that is just what you should say.”

“You’re right; it is,” Felicity agreed, wincing when she witnessed the light in his brilliant blue dim with her words. She nibbled against her lip before reconsidering. “But then again…we did wake up quite early, didn’t we?”

“Did we?” he questioned, his eyes sparking.

“Um-hmm. We did. And I had planned on going home this morning, to shower and change clothes, but I could probably modify that a little.”

Oliver’s fingers smoothed across her skin, just barely skirting beneath the lace collar. “Would that work out for you?”

Felicity swallowed hard while his roaming fingers blazed a heated trail against her flesh. “Well, I suppose if I shower here, and wear the same clothes to work that I wore yesterday, then I won’t have to go back to my apartment before I head to the office. Which means we could have some extra time now for…certain activities.”

His brow rose. “You sure it’s okay to show up to work in yesterday’s clothes?”

“Oh, it’ll be a bit odd. But the only person who will probably notice is Marie, and I already told her you’re my boyfriend, so…I can deal with that. Besides, I have plenty of fresh underwear in your bathroom to choose from.”

Oliver’s fingers twitched against her collarbone. “You _sure_ about this?”

The deep timber of his voice made her pulse sputter. “Pretty damn sure.”

“God, that’s _wonderful_. So, does this mean I can kiss you now?”

Felicity curled her toes into the sheets with that question. And she wanted nothing more than to push Oliver over on his back, and jump on top of him, and tackle him to the bed. Until she considered the reality of the morning situation. “That – that does sound wonderful. But do you think can I have a few minutes to brush my teeth first?”

He chuckled. “If you have to.”

“I think it would be best.”

Oliver allowed his hand to drop away from her collar. “Alright, if you must. But be quick about it, please. I want the most time I can have with you this morning.”

“I will be super fast, like lightning,” she promised, grinning while she threw back the covers and leapt up off the mattress. “You can call me _The Flash_.”

Felicity listened to Oliver’s laughter dance in the air as she bounded toward the bathroom. She could still hear his chuckles for another few seconds, even after she closed the door behind her. Then she sprung into action, first tending to nature’s call, and then washing her hands, and then grabbing her toothbrush and squeezing her favorite minty paste onto it.

Her feet bounced against the cool floor while she brushed. Her _entire body_ bounced and bubbled with excitement, anticipating the first time she could be together with Oliver here, in his home. Felicity nearly forgot to brush her hair when she finished with her teeth, but she remembered at the last minute. Once she’d tamed her bed-tousled curls, she splashed some water on her face and ran a towel across her cheeks and then grinned at her reflection in the mirror. She thought she looked quite presentable, except for the farcical nightgown, and excitement built in her gut as she tore open the bathroom door and bounded back outside.

Felicity’s heart felt light and free and ridiculously happy when she reentered Oliver’s bedroom. She looked immediately to the disheveled ivory sheets, searching him out. But even with the bare amount of light seeping through the heavy window drapes, she could see that Oliver wasn’t there. Felicity frowned for a moment, wondering where he’d gone.

She decided to go search the house for him, and turned toward the door to do just that. But she stopped moving when her gaze fell to the ornate chair sitting beside the bathroom doorway. Oliver’s clothes still lay across the back cushion, where he’d put them last night.

The moment Felicity saw his shirt, she reached for it without thought. She brought the dark material up to her face and took a deep breath in, filling her lungs with his lingering scent. Damn, he smelled _so_ good. He smelled like the forest, and like happiness, and like home, and she wanted that scent on her now. She wanted his scent _all over_ her.

Glancing down to the bizarre gnome outfit she still wore, Felicity shook her head. She briefly rested Oliver’s shirt back onto the chair, and then reached both hands to the hem of her gown. Pulling the copious flannel material up over her head, she gathered it all together before dropping it to the floor at her feet.

Felicity stood completely naked by the chair for just a second, her bare skin tingling in the cool morning air. Then she reached for his shirt again, pulling it across her back and easing her arms into the short sleeves, which were not all that short on her. The fabric felt soft and supple and scrumptious and she moaned with the sensation of it. The material enveloped her completely, with the hem resting against her upper thighs, and Felicity shifted her feet against the lush carpet, causing the fabric to smooth deliciously across her skin. A dreamy smile pulled up her lips while her fingers reached toward her chest in order to fasten the buttons.

“Holy hell, what are you doing?”

Oliver’s voice came from the doorway, ceasing all her movements.

Felicity’s gaze darted up to his, her fingers stilling on the one button – just below her breasts – that she’d managed to close. “Um, well, I’m putting on your shirt.”

He froze in place beside the doorframe, his eyes narrowing. “Why?”

“Because that nightgown is hideous,” she answered in all honesty, tilting her head toward the puddle of plaid on the floor. “And because I wanted to smell you on me.”

Oliver’s brow rose, and his lips parted, but he didn’t say a word. He just stood there, in the doorway of the bedroom, staring at her. And then his twitching fingers balled into fists.

Felicity’s heart banged in her chest, because she wasn’t sure why he looked so unnerved. “Is it okay that I put on your shirt? If you have something against it, I’ll take it…”

“ _You look_ _gorgeous_ ,” he announced, silencing her instantly. “You are just so fucking beautiful, standing here in my bedroom, with my shirt on. And…still no underwear.”

She shifted her legs, pressing her thighs together to ease the ache his words caused. “Still no underwear,” she echoed, the hitch in her voice betraying the bravado she wanted to display. Felicity let her hands fall to her sides as she returned his stark stare. “I’ve just been standing here, practically naked, waiting for you to come back, Oliver. Where did you go?”

He cleared his throat before answering. “I went to the bathroom in the other bedroom. To brush my teeth, too.”

Felicity reached up to push her hair behind her shoulder with one hand, the motion lifting the shirt higher on her bare thighs. “Oh, well…that’s good. Oral hygiene is important.”

“Um-hmm,” he growled, his teeth clenching tight while he held himself in place.

_Sweet hell, why is he just standing there? Why is he still on the other side of the room? Why isn’t he coming to get me right now, to grab me and kiss me and touch me everywhere?_

She couldn’t figure out why Oliver wouldn’t move toward her. Especially since all she wanted on the face of the planet was to feel that man’s body sliding up against her own. But Oliver seemed to have some sort of unearthly resistance to her right now, which frustrated the hell out of her. So Felicity purposefully eased her hand slowly down from her hair, tracing across the parted opening of his shirt, right between her breasts. Because she wanted Oliver to see what he _could_ be doing, if he wasn’t so far away. “I guess that means you have another bedroom in the house, then?”

Oliver’s eyes followed the movement of her fingers with feral intensity before his gaze dragged back up to her face. “There are _two_ other bedrooms in the house, actually.”

Felicity licked her lips, and flexed her toes into the carpet, but she didn’t move at all. She just kept staring at him while she posed her next question. “Do you think we could have sex in every one of your bedrooms, Oliver?”

He swore a filthy curse word under his breath and balled his hands tighter. “To be honest, Felicity, I fully intend to fuck the hell out of you in every single room of this house.”

She bit into her lip, holding the skin in her teeth for a long moment. “In _every_ room?”

His broad chest shifted with shallow breaths. “Yes.”

“Even in the kitchen?”

“Even in the kitchen.”

“What about in the shower?”

“God, yes.”

“In the hallway?”

“ _Definitely_ in the hallway.”

Felicity brought her hand down further, tracing the seam of his shirt from her chest to the juncture of her thighs. She parted the material to the side as she smoothed her fingers across the top of her thigh, knowing it gave him a very open view of her. “You know, I actually wanted you to fuck me in the hallway yesterday…right there beside the elevator.”

Oliver made a pained noise in the back of his throat, and Felicity’s palms dampened against her bare skin when she saw his pupils widen.

He leaned toward her, with his entire body intent on hers, and his rapidly hardening cock shifting in his sweatpants. Even though he didn’t take a single step forward. “Did you seriously want me to fuck you in the hallway when you got here yesterday?”

“I did,” she admitted. “And I still do.”

His brow rose. “That would be a dangerous place, you know. Anyone could walk off the elevator at any time.”

“Damn, that’s true, isn’t it?   I probably shouldn’t want to have you out in the open like that, should I? But I can’t seem to help myself. I want you anywhere and everywhere and…”

“I feel _exactly_ the same way. You _must_ know that.”

Felicity had more than a little trouble breathing right at this moment, with Oliver’s riveting eyes fastened on her body. But that didn’t stop her from shifting his shirttail higher, up to her hipbone, revealing even more skin. “Do you want us to go to the elevator hallway now?”

His only response was a darkly growled, “ _No_.”

Her lips parted. “No? Why not?” she questioned, her eyes dropping down to take in the blatantly obvious state of arousal tenting his pants. “Because it seems to me that, if we plan to have sex _everywhere_ , we should probably get started.”

“We’re going to. But we’re going to start here, in this bed.”

She lifted her gaze back to his. “Yeah? Why the bed?”

Oliver narrowed his eyes. “Because I swear it feels like I’ve been waiting my entire life to fuck you in my bed.”

Felicity watched his massive, taught body thrum with energy. “Then why don’t you fuck me in your bed now, Oliver?”

He groaned as he took his first step toward her. “Good God, I thought you’d never ask.”

Oliver closed the distance between them with inhuman speed. He walked right into her, slamming his body up against hers, and Felicity stumbled back with the force of him. But Oliver caught her, with one hand against her spine and the other hand up under the hem of his shirt, cupping her ass. His mouth met her lips instantly, his tongue fusing with hers.

Felicity threw her arms around his neck and held on, barely conscious of the fact that her feet no longer touched the ground. Because Oliver carried her, rapidly and resolutely, to the bed. He sunk her down onto the sheets, and dragged her up to the center of the mattress, never taking his mouth from hers for a second. Felicity tangled her tongue with his as she spread her legs to accommodate Oliver’s hips. The rock-hard length of his cock pressed into her sex, jutting up against her throbbing flesh and sending shocks through her entire body. Except that he still had his sweatpants on, so she couldn’t _really_ feel him. Not the way she needed to.

Still grasping tight to his neck, Felicity wrenched her mouth away just long enough to pant out a minimum of instructions. “Inside me. _Now_.”

Oliver didn’t hesitate. He used one of his hands to push the sweatpants down on his hips, barely freeing his erection. Then he lined up the thick, swollen head with her soaking wet entrance and plunged deep inside.

“Oh, sweet heaven,” she breathed, feeling him everywhere when he stretched her inner walls to the limits.

“Fuck, you feel incredible,” Oliver whispered against her lips. “So _goddamn_ amazing.”

He drove into her again and she gasped for air.

“Harder, Oliver. _Harder_.”

He did as instructed, fucking her hard and deep, again and again and again. His mouth moved from her lips to her neck, nipping and sucking her sensitive skin. Felicity moaned and wrapped her legs around him, linking her feet against his back, just like she’d wanted to do when he had her tied up on her office desk. This position opened her up completely, and allowed Oliver to hit the tender little nub at the top of her sex fully with each decisive thrust. And that brought her to the brink faster than she could imagine, and a hell of a lot faster than she wanted.

“No, wait,” she whimpered. “Stop.”

Oliver ceased all his movements immediately, and raised his head, looking into her eyes. “What’s wrong, baby?” he asked, his words panting and breathless. “Am I hurting you?”

“ _No_. Oh, God, no. Nothing hurts anywhere in my entire body, Oliver. It’s just…I’m about to come.”

A lopsided grin pulled up the side of his mouth. “Well, that is kind of the idea.”

She shook her head. “But it’s too fast. I don’t want it to be over yet.”

He shifted his hips against hers, causing another electric current to shoot through her body. “Then I’ll make you come again when you’re done with this one.”

“No, no, it’s not…I just want to be on top. Can I be on top?”

Felicity stared up into him, pleading with her eyes.

Oliver reached to her face with both hands, smoothing her hair back from her cheeks. “You can have anything you want, Felicity.”

The next second, he lay on his back with her above him. Felicity wasn’t even sure how he’d flipped them so quickly. She only knew that she was where she wanted to be now: on top of him, with her legs to either side of his hips, and his cock still buried deep inside her.

She liked this position. Not that she didn’t enjoy being underneath him. Honestly, she enjoyed it too much, which is why she needed to slow this down. Because she had other plans for Oliver this morning.

Leaning forward, Felicity planted her mouth firmly against his. Oliver ran his hands up and down her spine while they kissed, smoothing his fingers across her skin while his tongue played with hers. Felicity allowed herself to sink into him for several minutes, relishing his hardened, muscled mass beneath her. But eventually, she pushed up on her knees, lifting her hips gradually away. She eased his erection slowly and surely out of her body, until he finally came out of her altogether. Then she hovered above him.

Oliver groaned. “What are you doing? I need to be inside you.”

“You will be,” she offered with a smile.

Opening his eyes, Oliver looked up to her face. “Then just push yourself back onto me now. Let me fuck you. _Please_.”

“I’m going to let you fuck me,” Felicity promised, inhaling deeply while she observed him. “I just remembered something you said you wanted to do to me, back in my office.”

His brow rose. “What did I say?”

“You said you wanted to fuck my mouth.”

Oliver stilled for a long minute, just looking up into her eyes. Then he raised one hand to her face, and smoothed his fingers across her lips, watching the movement intently. “No, I said I wanted to fuck your _gorgeous_ mouth,” he corrected with a deep growl.

Felicity nipped at the tips of his fingers, and watched his eyes darken with the sensation. She grinned while she pulled her leg over his chest, relinquishing her straddled position in order to situate herself at the side of his body. Sitting back on her heels, she ran her tongue across her lips. “That’s what I want you to do now, Oliver.”

He didn’t respond at all. Because his teeth had clenched tight, the muscle in his jaw working furiously beneath his skin as he stared at her with barely caged hunger. The look in his eyes set her pulse running wildly though her veins, and Felicity had to force herself to calm down so she could relax enough to bend over and place her lips on his chest.

The moment she began kissing her way down the center of his body, Oliver reached one hand to her hair, burying his fingers deep inside her curls to pull them back from her face. Felicity knew the action was functional, to keep her hair from interfering with the movement of her mouth. But it was also fiercely possessive, with his fingers wound tight against her scalp.

Oliver wasn’t hurting her. Not at all. But he was holding on for dear life.

As Felicity eased her lips farther down his chest and onto his abs, she used one hand to reach for Oliver’s sweatpants, pushing them farther down his thighs. Her mouth didn’t leave his skin once, not even when he kicked the pants the rest of the way off of his legs. By the time she’d kissed her way to his bellybutton – after taking a few extra minutes to trace her tongue over the ridges of his carved stomach – the last of Oliver’s clothing lay on the floor.

Felicity tilted her face to the side then, careful not to dislodge his hand from her hair, while she looked into his darkened eyes. “You’re naked now.”

Oliver folded his free arm up behind his neck, propping his head so he could see her better. “I am.”

She tried not to obsess over the bulge of the bicep he supported himself with. “Do you want me to be naked, too? Because I can take your shirt off, if you like.”

“Please don’t. I love seeing you in it.”

Felicity nibbled against her lip, considering his words. “Do you love seeing me in your clothes because it means that I’m yours?”

His gaze remained direct and penetrating. “That’s exactly why.”

She didn’t flinch at all. “I am yours, Oliver.”

“I know,” he said with a slow smile. “And I am yours.”

She smiled back at him, and his fingers tightened in her hair. Raising her head, Felicity shifted her knees over to line herself up with his stiff erection. She didn’t take her eyes off of his as she grasped the base of his shaft in one hand and brought her lips down to the head of his cock. The first thing she did was kiss him there. Just a gentle press of her mouth to his skin.

Oliver’s pupils widened while his eyes narrowed.

Next she licked him. She licked across the head, and then she shifted the heavy length of him in her hand, so she could draw her tongue from the base of his erection all the way back up to the tip. Oliver sucked in a breath with her actions, and she smiled while she watched him.

Then Felicity closed her eyes, and open her mouth, and took as much of him inside her as she could. He groaned with the sensation, his fingers fisting against her scalp, and Felicity smiled around his flesh. She thought she was pretty good at giving blowjobs. She’d had some experience with them, although not with a man this size. But she believed she could do a fairly decent job. At least she hoped she could.

Holding tight to his thick base, Felicity worked her mouth up and down his cock, over and over again, flicking her tongue across his flesh while she went. She felt Oliver’s hips shift slightly beneath her, and felt his fingers twitch in her hair, and felt his erection pulse against her hand and her tongue. And that made her moan even with him deep inside her mouth.

“Felicity?”

“Mmm?”

“Do you taste yourself on me?”

Oliver’s voice came out ridiculously deep and damn near raw, and she pulled away from his skin for a moment to look to his face. “Yes,” she admitted, because it was the truth. He’d been buried inside her sex just moments ago, and she could definitely taste herself on him now.

He licked his lips as he watched her. “You taste amazing, don’t you?”

Fire lit Felicity’s cheeks, and air hitched in her lungs, but she didn’t respond. She just took him back inside her mouth, swirling her tongue up and down his length while she bobbed her head faster and faster. Her fingers tightened around him, moving in time with her mouth, fucking him as best she could. Felicity felt his erection throb and pulse beneath her touch, and heard the groans leave his throat in time with his panted breaths, and she was pretty damn proud of herself right at the moment.

“ _Fuck_ , baby. You feel _so good_ ,” he growled. “And seeing your lips wrapped around me, and my shirt on your body…you are just so goddamn beautiful. I could come right now. Right on your tongue.”

“Do it,” she panted, speaking with her lips pressed against the tight skin over the head of his heavy cock. “I want to taste you, Oliver.”

“I want you to,” he breathed. “You have no idea how much I want you to. But not yet.”

She stopped cold, turning her eyes back to his while her hand remained firmly wrapped around his throbbing length. “Why not yet?”

“Because I want to taste you, too.”

“What?”

A slow smile curved his lips as he stared down at her. “I want to taste you, Felicity.”

“Well, that will be a little difficult at the moment. I’m rather busy.”

Oliver chuckled. “It won’t be difficult at all, actually. Just shift your body up to me.”

Her brow quirked up. “Shift my body?”

“Yes. Bring your hips up this way.”

Felicity was genuinely confused. “I’m not sure what you mean; where do you want me?”

“I want you up here.”

“But, I just don’t see…”

Oliver shook his head. “Please forgive me for putting this crudely right now, but for the sake of time, let me explain it this way: I want you to come up here and sit on my face.”

Her eyes widened. “ _Sit_ _on your face_?”

“Yes. I want you to put your knees around my shoulders, and lay your chest on mine, and let your hips sink down on my mouth. That way I can taste you while you taste me.”

“Oh.” Felicity held firmer to his thick cock, feeling him pulse beneath her hand. “ _Oh_.”

“Does that sound like something you might like to do?”

“Well…sure. I just haven’t, um, I haven’t ever done that one before.”

He sucked in a sharp breath, his fist tightening against her scalp. “ _Holy fuck_ , please let me be your first.”

She stared at Oliver for a long time, absorbing the sordid lust and endearing enthusiasm in his eyes. Witnessing his blatant desire for her was enough to take her breath away, and Felicity nodded without thought. “Alright,” she agreed, pulling her hand away from his erection in order to shift her hips up toward his head.

Oliver finally released his grip on her hair, and took his arm out from under him, dropping his head to the mattress while he waited for her to get into position.

Felicity stilled once she’d edged herself up beside his shoulder, trying to figure out the logistics in her mind. “I don’t know exactly how to get into place for this.”

He gave her a reassuring grin. “Just put your knees on either side of my head, right by my shoulders.”

“Okay.” She did as instructed, carefully straddling his head between her legs.

“Now put your hands on the bed beside my hips, and lay your stomach onto my chest.”

Felicity complied, although slowly, not entirely sure of what she was doing. She rested her hands on the mattress beside his hips, and shifted herself a bit further down, so his stiff erection lined up well with her mouth. It all seemed like proper placement of body parts for this particular activity, although Felicity still wasn’t entirely positive about that. “How is this, Oliver? Am I in a good position for y- _oh_ …”

She didn’t get to finish that question. Because Oliver grabbed her around the waist with both hands, and flattened her belly against his chest, and licked his tongue straight through the folds of her sex, right at that moment.

“ _Oh, damn_ ,” she moaned, “that is… _wow_.”

Felicity felt Oliver chuckle against her skin, his hot breath fanning over her slick, wet flesh. Then she felt his lips glide across her skin folds and onto her sensitive nub of nerve endings. He tasted that tender little area quite thoroughly, moving his tongue up and down and in circles, and her eyes rolled back in her head.

“Good golly, how are you so incredible at this?” she wondered aloud, locking her elbows straight to keep herself from collapsing on top of him. “Did you take classes or something? Because I never took any of those classes. I didn’t know they were available.”

His chest rumbled beneath her while she spoke, and Felicity thought he might be laughing. But it only lasted a moment before he growled into her skin and then latched onto her tender flesh, teasing her with his lips and tongue and just the edge of his teeth.

“Oh. _Oh!_ Yes, Oliver, that is just…”

Her words left her the instant his hands eased down from her back and across her bottom. Oliver traced the soft seam between her ass cheeks with his fingertips, running them all the way down to where his mouth currently captivated her in every way possible. And then he pressed a finger inside her, all the way up inside the sheath of her hot, throbbing sex, and Felicity nearly bit through her tongue while she moaned.

He fucked her with one finger, in and out, again and again, before he added a second one inside her. Then he kept fucking her, just like that, with his fingers thrusting against her tight walls as his tongue found new and exceptional ways to light her nerve endings on fire. Felicity had a nearly insurmountable urge to press her hips down, rhythmic and undulating, into his mouth. She wanted to buck against him, and choose her own rhythm, even though the one he’d created was excellent, all on its own.

 _Damn, don’t be greedy_ , she chastised herself. _You’ll smother him_.

Honestly, Felicity was a little concerned that she was smothering him now. But if she was, Oliver didn’t seem to mind in the least. He had his entire face buried against her skin as he licked and sucked on her flesh, his tongue creating wet little noises while he drank her in.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she breathed, her arms folding when her elbows finally unlocked, unable to keep her upright due to the extreme satiation of her muscles. Felicity’s upper body collapsed down onto his carved abdomen, the firm ridges of his stomach pressing her tight nipples into the softness of his shirt. She gasped in air, finding it difficult to focus on anything but Oliver’s mouth and fingers while he continued demonstrating his mastery of all things sex.

Felicity actually just plain forgot that she was supposed to be doing something else right now, until his erection jerked hard against his abs, right beside her face. Her eyes focused in on the long length of his cock then, and on the thick drop of fluid collecting on the tip. She reached for him eagerly, wrapping her fingers around his thick base, pulling him up to line his swollen head up with her mouth. Oliver’s engorged shaft throbbed in her hand, and Felicity licked the tip greedily, savoring the liquid that had formed in response to her sitting on his face. Just the thought that he was seeping fluid from the act of tasting her made a fresh wave of wetness pool between her legs and into his mouth.

Felicity took him completely inside of her then. She relaxed her jaw, and sucked the length of him in, feeling the hard ridge of his shaft run all the way back along her palate and nearly down her throat. She’d never gotten any cock into her mouth this far before, let alone one this big, and she didn’t know if it was the position Oliver had placed her in, or the angle of his erection, or the overwhelming desire to have him as far inside of her as she could get him, but Felicity relished the ability to feel him this deeply.

When she’d gone as far as she could go, she wrapped her lips around him and then pulled back up, slowly and surely, applying pressure to his skin the entire way. Oliver moaned beneath her. Except he didn’t just moan; he growled and groaned and whimpered, arching his head off the bed to bury his face even deeper into her sex. He drove his two fingers hard inside her as he used his other hand to pull up one of her ass cheeks, giving his tongue even better access to her inner flesh.

Felicity huffed a breath against his skin while her lips sank back down around him, taking him fully into her mouth again, possibly even a little deeper than she had the last time. She used her right arm as leverage, her hand fisting into the sheets while she attempted to support her upper body for better range of movement. With her left hand, she grabbed hold of him, wrapping her forefinger and thumb around the base of his erection, squeezing tightly against his stretched skin while her other fingers drifted over his balls. Then she withdrew her mouth, a little faster this time, before sinking him back inside of her again.

Oliver abandoned his attention to her sex for a minute, his head dropping down onto the mattress with a thud as he muttered something that sounded like, “ _Goddamn holy fucking shit_.” But Felicity couldn’t be sure, because his words came out muffled inside her thighs. She hummed purposefully against his skin while his cock sat deep in her throat, and Oliver released a few more choice curse words. The next second, he moved right back to her, his fingers diving in to stretch her slick inner walls, his tongue circling her tensed bundle of nerves, his lips suckling her tender flesh.

Felicity bucked against him when he pressed his fingers in as deep as they could go, and it was all she could do to not bite down on his heavy length. But she did add a little scrape of her teeth to his skin as she pulled his cock slowly from her mouth again, which made Oliver growl, and caused the fingers of his other hand to dig into the flesh of her ass while he tongued her folds with added fervor. That grumble of his chest moved across her body, tightening her nipples into the material of his shirt and reminding her that she belonged to him – and he belonged to her – in every way, shape and form. Not that she doubted those facts earlier, but right now they felt pretty fucking undeniable.

So Felicity sucked him in again, and again, and again, finding it easier now to concentrate on Oliver’s pleasure even as she relished her own. She found a rhythm to her sucking, one that matched the thrust of his fingers inside her sex, and she closed her eyes and breathed through her nose while he hit the roof of her mouth over and over. She felt so much wetness between her legs, with the moisture drifting down her thighs, that she wondered how Oliver coped with it all.

When he pulled his fingers out of her a second later, Felicity stiffened above him, concerned that he might need to take a break in order to breathe. But apparently, he’d only removed his hand so he could taste her more thoroughly. Because Oliver spent the next few moments running his tongue from her sensitive nerve bud all the way back up to the seam of her ass, slowly and reverently and deliciously. Felicity heard him swallow against her skin, humming his approval into her wet folds. And then an explosive shiver wracked her entire body, because Oliver’s obvious desire for all things _her_ made one thing perfectly clear: she was going to come hard and fast and strong, right into his mouth, any goddamn second now.

He plunged his fingers back inside of her, and Felicity attacked him with aggression, wanting – no, _needing_ – him to come with her. She sucked his thick length deep into her mouth, and grasped tight to his throbbing base, and ran her fingers across his balls, and whimpered against his skin. His erection grew even harder somehow, like pulsing steel inside her, as Felicity worked his swollen shaft between her lips and over her tongue with intensity and control, determined to taste him when he came inside her.

Oliver finally started fucking her mouth then. He started fucking her _gorgeous_ mouth, his hips shifting up off the bed to push his cock into her throat. The feel of his driving need made Felicity’s thighs tremble, and she worked on relaxing her jaw so Oliver could control his own tempo. But as he thrust himself up into her mouth, she couldn’t help but thrust herself into his mouth, too. She couldn’t help the stuttered yet directed movement of her hips, grinding her sex against his face while she instinctively fucked his tongue and his fingers in an undeniable rhythm, over and over again.

The moment Felicity came, she screamed in the back of her throat, the sound muffled around his hot, stretched skin. Her fingers clenched onto his cock, hard and fierce, while her hips bucked into his face, and Oliver began throbbing in her hand. His thick shaft swelled and tightened for a spilt second before his hot liquid began spurting down her throat. Felicity sighed deeply with that surging sensation, her eyes rolling back beneath her closed lids while his fingers drove into her wet folds again and again, creating infinite frissons of lightning beneath her skin.

She breathed hard, in and out through her nose, working to keep her lips clamped around him while Oliver continued to thrust his hips. His smooth fluid pulsed out in waves, flowing over the back of her tongue, salty and tangy and perfect. Felicity swallowed it all down as every nerve ending in her body sputtered and convulsed from the ongoing orgasm he still pulled from her flesh. He kept running his tongue over her nerve bud, continuously tasting and tonguing her in rhythm with her panted breaths, even when his cock began to relax in her hand.

Once Oliver finally rested his head back against the mattress, and Felicity could organize her brain enough to think again, she worried that she’d pushed down too hard against him during her lascivious moments of thrusting onto his face. So she tried to pull away a bit now, to alleviate the pressure. But Oliver just brought his free arm up across her spine, and wrapped it around her, and pulled her down harder against him, keeping her pinned in place. Then he eased the fingers of his other hand slowly out of her sex, and Felicity heard him make a sucking sound, and she groaned around his cock. Because she knew he’d licked her wetness off of his fingers, as if he couldn’t get enough of her taste, and she wasn’t sure how he could feel that way at this moment. Although she did understand it, because she would be more than happy to make him come again, deep on her tongue, right this second.

She held Oliver’s cock inside her mouth until he completely ceased pulsing and she knew he’d finished his orgasm. A smile pulled up her lips when she finally released him with one last lick of her tongue, and he shivered beneath her as she eased her grip from the base of his shaft. The instant she’d freed him, Felicity allowed her body to collapse onto his – mostly because she didn’t have any energy left, and couldn’t have stopped herself. But also because she liked feeling his warmth against her.

Oliver chuckled a little when she flopped down onto him, with her arms falling limply onto the mattress. Felicity sighed contentedly, and closed her eyes, and rested her cheek against the tight muscles of his abdomen, her hair fanning over his thighs. She couldn’t bring herself to be concerned about the fact that she remained splayed out and spread eagle on top of him, and Oliver didn’t even attempt to move her for the longest time. He just lay there beneath her, and ran his hands slowly and tenderly up under his shirt, trailing over her spine. His touch was perfection, his fingertips soothing the skin he’d lit on fire just moments before.

She probably could have stayed like this forever. Her comfort level was about a thirty on a scale of one to ten, so she didn’t even attempt to move. Until she heard him speak.

“Felicity?”

“Mmm?”

“Could you just tilt over onto your side a bit?”

“Oh, _yes_ , of course,” she squeaked, her head snapping up while she stiffened her arms to raise her chest off of his. Pushing herself up and away, Felicity swung her leg gingerly over his head before shifting back down onto the mattress. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

The moment she moved onto her side, Oliver sat up and reached one large hand to her waist. He pushed against her hipbone, tipping her over to flatten her onto her back. Then he slid himself on top of her, lining their bodies up perfectly together while pinning her down beneath him on the mussed sheets. The air pushed from her lungs when Oliver’s chest landed on hers, and the next thing Felicity knew, she was staring up into his glassy, sated eyes.

“Do I look like I’m hurt?” he questioned with a slow, delicious smile curving his lips.

Felicity couldn’t help returning the smile. “No, you don’t,” she admitted, because Oliver didn’t look hurt at all. In fact, he looked like the farthest thing from hurt. He looked satiated. And practically drunk. And definitively…happy.

Oliver stared into her for a long while, with his eyelids at half-mast. When he spoke again, his voice came out low and rough. “Can I kiss you?”

She furrowed her brow, not sure why he would ask. But then she saw the shimmer of wetness on his jaw scruff and she understood: he wanted to make sure she was okay with kissing him now, after all they’d just done. And that realization made Felicity obscenely giddy. “Lord, yes, of course,” she assured, barely getting her words out past her giggles. “You can put that mouth of yours anywhere you want to.”

He chuckled, his chest moving deliciously against hers with the rolling sound. Then he sank down even farther onto her, and pressed their lips together. Felicity felt his smooth, salty tongue touch hers at the same time she felt him reach for her wrists, pulling her arms up above her head. Oliver threaded their fingers together, and rested their entwined hands beside her hair, and Felicity kissed him back even harder while she clung tight to his fingers.

Eventually, after long, thorough moments of tasting each other’s lips and tongues, Oliver pulled back a bit, and nudged her nose with his own, and rested his forehead onto hers. Felicity breathed in deep, keeping her eyes closed tight while she filled her lungs with the scent of him and her and them. She didn’t want to see anything right now, or hear anything, or think anything. She just wanted to feel. She wanted to revel in the sensation of Oliver’s body – his warmth and his strength and his love – surrounding her.

He actually encased her completely at this moment, with every part of him pinning every part of her down to the mattress. From the tips of their fingers to the ends of their feet, Oliver lay on top of her, securing her beneath him. Felicity knew it was a position of complete dominance, and that she was at his mercy. But it didn’t feel like he was trying to dominate her. It felt like he was trying to absorb her, and to relish the sensation of her, and to feel as much of her as possible, all at once.

That realization made Felicity smile against his lips, and made her cling even harder to his hands. Because she knew Oliver was just as much at her mercy as she was at his.

“You’re smiling,” he whispered. “That is the most beautiful thing in the entire world.”

She grinned even wider, opening her eyes to look into his. “You give me a lot of reasons to smile.”

The grin he offered her in return carried just a hint of wickedness. “Does that mean you enjoyed our morning activity?”

Felicity couldn’t stop the blush lighting her cheeks as she nibbled her lip and nodded.

Oliver’s eyes darted to her mouth. “Then maybe we can do this again sometime?”

“Anytime you want.”

He groaned. “You might not want to give me free reign on that. I would be between your legs all day long, if you let me.”

Bravery surged through her when she gazed into his tempting eyes. “Well, I would let you fuck my mouth all day long, if you wanted to.”

Oliver shifted his hips with her words, his cock twitching and thickening against her thigh, and Felicity’s breath caught in her throat. “You’ll let me fuck your _gorgeous_ mouth all day long,” he corrected, a flare of heat infusing his intense gaze.

“Y-yes. My _gorgeous_ mouth.”

He smiled again, the fire in his eyes flashing for a second before it eased back to a slow burn. Then Oliver leaned down and kissed her again – a soft, tender touch of lips – before he straightened to look on her face. “Can I ask you a question, Felicity? Because I’m a bit curious about something.”

“Yeah? What about?”

“Well, I just want to know – was it okay with you that I moved my hips while we did that? I tried to hold still, but I couldn’t keep myself from actually fucking your mouth. Your lips and tongue and teeth just felt so goddamn amazing.”

She blushed violently with his words, her fingers gripping harder to his. “To be honest, I really liked that part,” she admitted in a hushed whisper.

His brow rose. “You did?”

“I did. It felt like you were just a little out of control. I liked thinking I could make you feel that way.”

“Oh, you do. You definitely do. Being inside you is a blissful heaven and a sweet, sweet hell, both together. You make me feel everything, all at once.” He finished his statement with a smile, and then shifted his hips, in order to ground his freshly growing erection into her thigh.

Felicity whimpered with the sensation. “God, _Oliver_ , please stop moving. You’re making me wet again.”

“Am I? Well, I can certainly take care of that. I’ll make you come again right now, if you want me to.”

“Well _of_ _course_ I want you to,” she moaned. “But it’s getting late and I have to get ready to do something. I mean…oh, hell, I have to go to _work_. I completely forgot about that. And I never forget about that.” She paused for a moment, exhaling slowly as she looked into his eyes. “It’s _you_. You make me forget about everything but us. You make the whole world slip away when we’re together.”

He squeezed tight to her hands. “You do the same for me. Is that a bad thing?”

“No. No, it’s not. It’s an amazingly good thing. Completely amazing. You’re like catnip, and I’m like a tiger. I mean…if tigers like catnip. Do tigers like catnip? They’re part of the feline family, so I assume they would, but then again tigers eat antelope and other such things, so maybe catnip just wouldn’t mean all that much to them. So maybe the tiger-catnip thing is a really poor analogy. But I think you know what I’m trying to say. At least I hope you do, because I’m obviously not speaking well right now and…”

“Come away with me.”

Felicity stopped babbling. She looked up into him, her pulse sputtering. “What?”

Oliver released one of her hands in order to bring his fingers down to her cheek and run them up the side of her jaw. “I want you to come away with me this weekend. I only have a few days left on vacation, and I want to spend them with you.”

She lay stunned and still beneath him. “Oliver…I…”

“Please, Felicity. I promise I’ll have you home by Sunday night. I know you have to work Monday morning. I do, too. We both have to return to reality in just a couple days, but until then, I want a little more fantasy time with you.”

“But…I thought you said last night that you wanted everything between us, from here on out, to be grounded in reality.”

Oliver eased his fingers up into her hair. “I do. This is still reality. But it can be a reality that we choose to infuse some magic into. Because that’s what you are to me…you’re magic, and I want to spend my last few days on vacation with you beside me.”

Felicity stared up into his eyes, her breath catching when Oliver fixed her with a look that pleaded and promised and loved, all at once. And her entire body melted beneath that gaze. “Where do you want to take me?” she whispered, almost afraid of her own desires.

A soft smile drew up the corners of his mouth. “Can it be a surprise?”

“I love surprises.”

“I know you do. So let me give you one. Say you’ll come away with me.”

She watched the light grow brighter in his eyes, and she agreed without any further thought. “Okay. I’ll come.”

Oliver smiled wildly with her consent, and for several seconds, Felicity didn’t think about her decision at all. But then she _did_ think about it. And she rolled her eyes and blew out a huffed breath.

His brow furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. It’s just…I guess I’m a little frustrated with myself.”

“About what?”

Felicity finally raised her hand from the bed, to smooth her fingers across his jaw. “Well, yesterday when I arrived here, I had every intention of taking things slow between us. I’d thought long and hard about our relationship, and decided that we should move along at a snail’s pace. I’d made firm decisions about how things should go on our second date, and I wanted the evening to be peaceful, and to end with a kiss or two, or three. But definitely no more than three. And then I planned to leave. I fully intended to go back home last night, _alone_. Because I think what we really need, in order to make this relationship work, is to be cautious. I think we should take things slow. I think we _both_ need that.”

Oliver stared into her eyes for a long minute. Then he simply shook his head. “I don’t want to take things slow.”

“I _know_ you don’t. But I think we should. I think…”

“Felicity?”

“Yes?”

“I know you have a really big, amazing, wonderful brain, but do you ever think that, maybe sometimes, you think too much?”

All the air left her lungs on a heavy exhale. “Honestly, I think that all the time.”

“Well then, what would you do right now, if you didn’t _think_ about anything? What would you do if you just went with your _feelings_?”

She smiled. “That’s easy. I would stay with you forever and never leave.”

“That’s the right answer,” he insisted, his voice firm yet gentle. “You’ve got to know that’s the right answer.”

Felicity kept smiling, even though she _didn’t_ know if it was the right answer. She couldn’t know that. At least, not in her mind. But right now, laying here with him, and feeling his skin on hers, and seeing the love in his eyes, it sure as hell _felt_ like the right answer.

“When do we leave, Oliver?”

His hand drifted down the column of her neck. “Well, it would be great if you could meet me back here tonight around six. Would that give you enough time to finish up at the office, and go to your place to pack a bag, and then come back?”

“I think that will work. What should I pack? It’s getting colder out; will I need a parka?”

He chuckled. “Actually, the weather should be warm where we’re headed, so no need for parkas. And I know we’ll only be gone a couple of nights, but I would definitely like to take you out for some nice dinners. So maybe you could pack a dress or two?”

“Yeah, I could do that. Nice dresses it is.”

“And, um…maybe…”

“Maybe what?”

Oliver grinned devilishly. “Maybe those red high heels you wore to work Monday?”

Felicity’s eyes widened. “You mean the first day you showed up in my office?”

“Those are the ones. They were…very nice.”

He waggled his eyebrows and she giggled. “I suppose I could bring those along.”

“Mmm,” he growled his agreement, grinding his hips into hers once again, making his nearly hard cock throb against her thigh.

Heat pooled instantly between her legs and she groaned. “You’re insatiable, aren’t you?”

Oliver stared hard into her eyes. “No, not at all. I was actually quite satiated a few moments ago. But it’s been a while.”

Felicity shook her head. “Insatiable.”

“Is that a complaint?”

“Nope. Not a complaint. I just have to go to work now, unfortunately.”

Oliver huffed out a breath and settled himself down again. “I know. I’m not happy about it, but I do know.” He smoothed his fingers back up to her cheek, steadying her face in his palm. “I’m going to let you go now, because I understand that other people need you, and that you have to help them. But they can only have you for a few hours, because I need you, too. And I want you right back here with me, as soon as humanly possible.”

Her heart thudded in her chest while Felicity looked up to his brilliant blue. “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” she assured.

“Well then, I guess I can let you go. For now.”

He planted one more deep, salty kiss against her lips before he rolled off of her and onto his back. Felicity forced herself to get up off of the mattress, but as she stood by the side of the bed, and looked down to his naked, prone form – complete with detailed chest muscles and a thickening erection and intent, loving eyes – she couldn’t bring herself to leave. “Damn, I want you,” she breathed, her cheeks flushing with the admission of her desires.

Oliver lay there, just staring at her, for a few seconds. Then he rose up off of the bed, slowly and determinedly. Felicity followed his movements, raising her eyes to his as he stood and stepped into her. Oliver reached both hands to her face, and steadied his fingers against her cheeks, while he pressed their bodies together again.

“You’re so incredibly beautiful. Do you know that, Felicity? Everything about you, inside and out, is so beautiful. And I just want to hold you against me forever, and never let you leave this bedroom. God, I would absorb you into my skin, if I could.”

She whimpered with his words.

Oliver rested his forehead against hers, breathing in deep before speaking again. “And that’s not a bad thing, baby; I swear it isn’t. Maybe it feels that way, because I know it sounds desperate and possessive. But that doesn’t make it a bad thing…not as long as we keep ourselves grounded in reality. You and I both know we have a physical need for each other, but this bond we have isn’t just about sex. This is about knowing each other. It’s about loving each other. So no matter how fast things move between us, it’s all going to be okay. I promise.”

Felicity threw her arms around his neck, unable to control the smile that lit up her entire body. “I love you, Oliver.”

“I love you,” he breathed against her lips, just before kissing them. A moment later, he growled while he pulled away. “Now go get in the shower and get ready for work. Before I can’t control myself the way I should.”

“Alright,” she agreed, arching up on her tiptoes to press her mouth to his one more time before she turned and scurried around the bed. Felicity could feel his eyes on her as she moved, and when she reached the bathroom door, she stopped for a moment, glancing down to the ornate chair that still held Oliver’s pants from the night before. Looking over her shoulder, Felicity met his penetrating gaze from across the room. Then she undid the one button holding his shirt onto her skin, and slipped the material off of her shoulders, and let it drape onto the chair beside her.

Oliver watched with lascivious intensity while the shirt fell down, and then his eyes dragged over her naked body, and particularly over her bare ass, while she stood with her back to him. Felicity watched his breathing stiffen and falter as he stared at her, and she shuffled her feet a little against the carpet, knowing it shifted the flesh of her ass. Oliver’s lips parted with that movement, so Felicity brought her hands to her hips, and slid them slowly down the sides of her legs, and moaned quite purposefully with the sensation. And she somehow felt perfectly feminine, and decidedly wicked, all at once.

The muscles in Oliver’s arms flexed hard, and his cock twitched against his abs, and his jaw clenched fiercely, while he stared into her. “You’re playing with fire, Felicity. You know that, don’t you?”

“I do know that,” she admitted, certain he could see the clear sparkle in her eyes.

Oliver lunged toward her then, his reflexes lightning-fast as he skirted around the bed, and Felicity squealed and darted into the bathroom, shutting the door quickly behind her. Giggles burst from her throat when she heard him stop short on the other side of the wood door. Oliver made a few more growling noises from behind the thick barrier before the sounds transformed into laughter that matched her own. Eventually he stilled, and exhaled, and spoke. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen when you’re done in there, my little bird.”

 _My little bird_.

Felicity’s breath caught with those words, and she slumped back onto the door, just absorbing them. Her mind drifted immediately to the book Oliver made for her. She remembered the beautiful sentiments he’d written beneath the photo of her yellow-crowned purple fantini. The memory of those words moved through her chest, deep and warm, and Felicity wanted to spend the next several hours thinking. Just thinking and thinking and then thinking some more…about all that had happened between her and Oliver in the past few days.

But she didn’t have time for any of that right now. Not if she planned to make it to work before her patients arrived. So she forced herself away from the door, and began her morning routine. She moved quickly, pushing through the rapid and robotic actions, which kept her mind from wandering off too far. And that was definitely a good thing, because she knew she didn’t have time right now to do all of the thinking she wanted to do. She only had time to get ready for work. So that’s what she did.

Once she’d showered, and toweled off, and dried her hair, Felicity stared at the rainbow assortment of panties Oliver bought for her. She glanced over each color, and then chose the hunter green ones, her fingers appreciating the silky slip of fabric for a moment before she pulled them on. She smiled to herself as she redressed in her shirt and skirt from yesterday, and stepped back into her heels. Finally, she placed her glasses back onto her nose and glanced at herself in Oliver’s huge mirror. She looked basically the same now as she had last night, with her hair loose and her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright. But today she saw a little something different in her light blue eyes. She wasn’t exactly sure what it was, but it looked a lot like…peace.

Felicity smiled to her reflection just before she turned to open the door. Stepping out into Oliver’s bedroom, she noticed his sweatpants were no longer on the floor, and his shirt was no longer on the chair. Although she preferred to think of it as _her_ shirt now.

Walking purposefully into the hallway and through the living room, Felicity found the path back to the kitchen and pushed her way through the swinging door. The room was just as opulent and gorgeous as it was last night, when she could barely appreciate it for the stunned state her mind was in. Her purse still lay on the granite countertop, just where she’d left it. And Oliver stood by the sink, wearing his low-slung sweatpants and that glorious shirt.

He turned toward her when she approached, smiling while he looked to her eyes. “Croissants and orange juice,” he announced, setting a plate and glass in front of her.

Felicity stepped closer to him. “Mmm. I love croissants.”

Oliver erased the little space between them with one long stride, pressing his lips to hers for a quick kiss before straightening again. “I know you do. It’s all I ever saw you eat for breakfast up at Blue. Although, if you would prefer that I make you something else, I certainly could. Eggs. Bacon. Pancakes. French toast. Whatever you like.”

“You don’t always have to cook for me.”

“But I want to. I also made you lunch.”

“You made me _lunch_?”

“I did,” he said, gathering a brown paper bag from the counter to give it to her.

Felicity took the offering in one hand, feeling the weight of it before she set it down on the counter beside her purse. Then she looked up into his brilliant blue, and watched him smile, and shook her head. “God, Oliver, where have you been all my life?”

Her words gave him pause, the smile falling from his lips before he spoke. “I wish I knew, Felicity. I guess I’ve just been here, waiting for you.” He stepped into her again, lining their bodies together. Oliver reached for her face – a motion she’d grown so accustomed to in such a short time – to ground her to him. “I’ve been waiting for you for what feels like forever. Which is why I don’t want to wait anymore. I don’t want to take things slow; I don’t want to move at a snail’s pace. I want you with me, from here on out. I’m not afraid of that fact, and I sure as hell am not ashamed of it. So I make no apologies for it, and I hope you’ll understand.”

She didn’t really know how to respond to that right now. And she couldn’t have responded in words, anyway. So she wrapped her arms around his neck, and pulled him down to her, and kissed him.

The kiss started out soft. Felicity meant for it to be soft, and tender, and reassuring. But it didn’t stay that way for long. Because Oliver moved his hands from her face down to her neck and across her chest, brushing over her breasts before roaming onto her waist. Then he pulled her forward, lodging her up against him, his fingers curling into the flesh around her hipbones. Oliver tasted her with a controlled, simmering intensity that slowly but surely lost its control, morphing into something needy and aching and hungry.

Felicity gave in willingly to that need for long, languid moments. But when she felt her arms tremble, and felt her knees give way, she forced herself to pull back, to rest her forehead onto his. “Good golly, Oliver. If I don’t leave now, I’ll never get to work on time.”

“Hmm,” he grumbled against her lips. “Then you should go, damn it.”

She tightened her arms around him. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

“That’s not true. I will be highly aware of every moment you’re gone. And I will loathe every single second.”

“Well…that is…that is awfully dramatic.”

He raised his head to look into her eyes. “Are you saying you’re _not_ going to loathe every single second you’re away from me?”

Felicity grinned wildly. “Of course I’m not saying that. I will definitely loathe every single second I’m away from you. I will despise them all with the fire of a thousand suns.”

Oliver chuckled when he finally released his hold on her. “Then just go already. So you can come back again.”

“I’m going; I’m going,” she insisted, reaching out for her purse, and throwing the strap over her shoulder, before grabbing her lunch in one hand and her croissant in the other.

“Don’t you want your orange juice? You’ll be thirsty after eating that. I also have a ton of coffee, and I did promise to make you some.”

Her heart squeezed in her chest with the look of concern on Oliver’s face. “Thank you, but I’ll be okay. I’ll just grab a coffee when I get to the office.”

“If you’re sure,” he grumbled.

Felicity had to force herself to leave, because turning away from Oliver felt instantly wrong. But she made it through the kitchen door, and past the dining room, and out into the hallway, without looking back to him once. Then, when she finally reached the elevator, she allowed herself to search out his eyes. “I’ll see you back here at six.”

He reached around her to push the down button on the elevator panel, his body leaning in to hers far more than was necessary. “I can’t wait.”

She smiled with his words, and arched up on her tiptoes to press her mouth to his.

Oliver kept the kiss chaste, but when it ended he whispered, “What color underwear do you have on?”

Felicity grinned wickedly. “Hunter green, of course. Because it’s your color, and I’m going to imagine having you between my legs _all day long_.”

“ _Goddamn it_ ,” he breathed, running his hands into her hair and tightening his fingers against her scalp. “You know I want to fuck you right here in this hallway, don’t you? And I’m definitely going to do that, one of these days.”

She swallowed hard. “I certainly hope so.”

He shifted closer to her, smiling softly into her eyes. “Although I’ll have to ask Maseo to turn off the security feed to this floor first.”

Felicity’s brow jumped into her hairline. “ _Security feed?_ ”

“Yeah. There’s a camera right there.”

Oliver nodded his head to the ceiling above the elevator door and Felicity blanched. “Oh my God. Do you think Maseo saw us kissing in the hallway yesterday?”

He shrugged. “Probably.”

“I – I changed my mind. I can’t leave here. I can never look that man in the eyes again.”

“It was just a kiss, baby.”

“It was _one hell_ of a kiss.”

“Imagine what would have happened if I knew you wanted me to fuck you right then.”

Her mouth fell open. “Now I _definitely_ can never look Maseo in the eyes again.”

Oliver chuckled while the elevator door opened. He bent down and pressed one more kiss to her parted lips, and then took a step back. “See you tonight, Felicity.”

She nodded mechanically as she stepped into the shiny silver box. “See you tonight,” she echoed, her gaze staying locked with his until the moment the doors closed. Oliver gave her a wink at the last second, and Felicity held onto that image all the way down to the entry floor. And then she did her best not to blush twenty different shades of red when she walked by the guard stand in yesterday’s clothes, and gave the smiling Maseo a sheepish wave goodbye.

…

Thoughts filled Felicity’s head while she drove to work – so many of them, roiling around in the back of her brain. But the thoughts she pulled to the forefront at this moment weren’t bad, or scary, or painful, like so many she’d known in the past six months. No, the thoughts filling her mind right now were of happiness, and peace, and love. They were the ones she’d wanted to have for as long as she could remember.

A smile spread across her lips when she pulled into the parking lot beneath her office building. The smile stayed with her through the security area, and up the elevator, and into her reception area. It stayed with her when she greeted Marie, and even while she watched Marie’s brow rise as the woman silently surveyed the clothes Felicity still wore from the day before.

Felicity smiled all the way to her desk, and into her formfitting chair. And it felt amazingly good, because she’d spent so much time in this office faking her smiles, especially in the past half a year. She’d become an expert at it, honestly. She could plaster on that easygoing expression whenever she needed to, whenever she needed to demonstrate to a patient how happy and promising life could be.

But today, for the first time in so long, Felicity didn’t have to fake it. She didn’t have to fake anything. Her smiles came easily and genuinely, with each patient who stepped through her door. Her smiles today were heartfelt and heartwarming, and even with as good an actress as she’d become over the years, Felicity knew her patients could feel the difference.

By the time evening rolled around, and she’d completed the last of her sessions, Felicity felt as happy as she could ever recall, even when she was a young girl, frolicking in the woods with her mother. Donna Smoak had always encouraged Felicity to look for the happiness in her life. She’d always encouraged her daughter to skip and to bounce and to be free and to love without restraint. As a child, Felicity understood all of that. But she’d somehow grown out of it, or forgotten about it, or chosen to put it behind her.

She didn’t want to do that anymore. She didn’t want to abandon her happiness. And if the connection she felt with her patients today was any indication, there was a chance that she could be happy and free, and still be an effective physician. Just like Oliver challenged her to be.

Felicity rose from her chair when it was time to leave, gathering her purse and stepping around her desk, walking toward her door with purposeful steps. But as she passed by her wall of plants, her footing faltered for a moment. She stopped beside the fern – the one Oliver had touched the first time he came into this office. She stopped and stared at it, her body freezing as she studied the smooth, feathery leaves.

 _It thrives in low light_ : that’s what she’d told Oliver about this plant. He’d asked her if it was an ideal for her patients to strive toward, and she said it was. But it was also an ideal _she_ strove for. Felicity brought these plants in here to help her see the light again. Now, thanks to Oliver, she could.

Reaching out to the fern, she grasped the pot in her hands and curled it into the crook of her arm. Then she walked the rest of the way across her office and pulled open her thick door. The moment she stepped into the reception area, her eyes widened.

“Is that the biggest thing you ever saw, or what?” Marie asked, her voice muffled by a full mouth.

Felicity’s jaw dropped open as she attempted to wrap her mind around the fact that a twelve-foot teddy bear sat on the couch in her reception area. “Yup. Biggest thing I ever saw.”

“You want a chocolate?” Marie offered, lifting the large box of candies she held in her hand. “There are ten containers here, so if you want a different flavor, I’ll open a new box.”

“No, I’m okay, thanks,” Felicity replied, another smile finding its way to her lips as she watched Marie swallow down a candy. “I take it Oliver sent you a few more things today?”

The older woman nodded. “All this, plus a very hefty gift certificate to a spa. I already called Manny to tell him we’re getting a couples’ massage this weekend.”

“I’m sorry if Oliver is being a little… _overwhelming_ with the whole please-like-me thing. I can tell him to stop, if you want.”

Marie shrugged. “I’ll manage to force my way through it,” she said, grinning while she popped another chocolate into her mouth.

Felicity giggled, because she loved the fact that Marie was enjoying herself. And also because she understood how overwhelming Oliver could be, and yet how easy it was to just appreciate that part of him. “Well, I hope you and Manny have a wonderful weekend, and that you enjoy your massages. I’ll see you on Monday morning, okay?”

“Okay,” the woman agreed, straightening in her chair the moment Felicity turned to her step around the desk. “Wait…what are you doing with that plant?”

Felicity glanced down to the fern. “Oh, well, I’m taking this to Oliver’s place. He said I could bring things over there, and I thought it would make his place look more like a home.”

“You mean you’re taking a plant _out_?”

“Yeah. I am. I think it’s time.”

_Because I can start disassembling that forest now._

Marie’s eyes misted up. “You’re…you’re a very strong woman, Felicity. You know that, don’t you?”

Felicity heard those words, and she choked back a sob as she looked to her friend. Her fingers shook while she adjusted her glasses, because for the first time in six months, she could truly see that Marie didn’t think of her as broken. “Thank you for that,” she whispered.

Marie closed the lid on her box of chocolates. “You know what? You can tell Oliver to stop sending gifts. You can tell him I like him just fine. In fact, you can tell him I _adore_ him.”

Blinking away the moisture in her eyes, Felicity nodded. “I’ll tell him that. It’ll make him really happy.”

“Well, that man deserves to be happy. Because it’s obvious he makes you happy.”

“He does,” Felicity confirmed without question. “So happy.”

Marie smiled, tender and warm. “I hope you enjoy your weekend, Felicity.”

“I will; I’m going to spend it with Oliver.”

“Good,” Marie offered with a nod, sending Felicity on her way with another smile plastered to her lips.

Felicity held onto her smile as she rode the elevator back down to the lobby, and passed by security, and got into her car. She played her Elvis tunes on the way home, singing along to her favorite songs until she arrived at her apartment. Leaving the fern sitting securely in the front seat, Felicity sprung out of her car, and scurried inside her apartment door, and put herself immediately to work, getting ready for her weekend away to someplace warm. And she tried not to think about anything but the fact that she would be back in Oliver’s arms soon.

She changed her clothes first, since she’d been wearing the same outfit for two days now. Keeping her new hunter green thongs right where they were, Felicity peeled off the rest of her clothes off before pulling on a purple sleeveless blouse and a tight black skirt that, quite frankly, hugged her ass nicely. She figured Oliver would appreciate that.

Then she stepped to her closet and pulled her wheeled suitcase from the top shelf. Opening the bag up on her bed, she began filling it hurriedly with her clothes and toiletries. Oliver had asked her to bring some nice dresses, so Felicity grabbed a soft blue floor-length gown, which she’d worn to a wedding once. Then she stood in her closet for minute, trying to decide what other dress to bring. Her eyes perused her modest collection, until they landed on a dress she’d never, ever worn before – a hot little red number, with a gold zipper running the full length of the front, that she’d bought on a whim years ago.

She grinned while she scooped the sultry dress off the hanger, and attempted to fold it as best she could, before tossing it inside her bag. She was normally much more meticulous about the way she packed, but just didn’t have time to deal with that right now. So she did the best she could, as fast as she could. Once she’d gotten all the clothes secured, Felicity grabbed the red high heels Oliver requested and tossed them into the bag, too.

Thoughts scratched at the back of her mind while she zipped up the suitcase – so many, many thoughts – but she hushed them, because she didn’t have time to pay them proper attention right now. Because Oliver waited for her. And she was bound and determined to go to him.

Just before leaving her bedroom, Felicity’s eyes drew to her bed stand, to the bird book Oliver gave her. It had been sitting beside her bed since the night she’d brought it home – the same night he’d tied her up on her desk, and gotten her to agree to the _simple_ second date where he’d sprung his entire family on her.

Felicity hadn’t opened the book again since the first time she’d read through it in her office, yet something inside her made her reach for it now, and cradle it in one arm, while she grasped the handle of her rolling suitcase and walked out into the hallway. Keys in hand, she exited her apartment and rushed back to her car. She tossed the suitcase in her trunk before sinking into the driver’s seat next to the fern, then she placed the bird book into her purse, and buckled in, and started the engine.

The trip to Oliver’s house passed quickly today, so Felicity wasn’t late at all. In fact, she actually made it to his building fifteen minutes early. To her surprise, Maseo stood at the entrance to the parking garage when she arrived.

“Hi, Felicity,” he greeted with a smile when she rolled down her window.

She tried not to blush too wildly while she smiled back. “Hi, Maseo.”

“Oliver asked me to meet you, so I could direct you to your parking space.”

“My parking space?”

“Yes, you’ve got the spot marked number one reserved for you.”

Her brow furrowed. “You mean the first space in the garage is reserved for _me_?”

He chuckled. “It is now. That’s normally Oliver’s space, but he moved his car to the second one. Also, he told me to tell you he’s waiting for you upstairs, and that you should just walk inside when you get there.”

Her mouth hung for a bit before she could get out any words. “Um…thank you.”

“Anytime. It’s nice to see you again.”

“You, too,” she replied, returning Maseo’s gentle smile as she pulled under the building and eased into the parking spot to the right of the entrance door. The silver Porsche she remembered being in Oliver’s driveway up at Blue sat the in the space beside her, and Felicity’s eyes glanced over it before she grabbed her keys and her fern and rushed into the building.

The trip through the lobby was quick. The trip up the elevator was quick. The trip down the hall to Oliver’s door was quick.

In fact, everything since the moment she’d stepped into this building yesterday had happened at the speed of light – along with everything that happened between her and Oliver since the moment they met – and for a split second, Felicity stood in front of Oliver’s door with her heart in her throat, wondering if she should go in. Not because she didn’t want to be with him, but because she knew she hadn’t taken the proper time to think any of this through the way she should. And there were so many issues her mind still needed to sort out.

Honestly, she knew she could stand here in this hallway for days, just thinking thought after thought after thought. She could stand here forever, trying to wrap her mind around everything that had happened in the past few weeks. But Felicity also knew that Oliver waited for her on the other side of this door, and she knew she wanted to be with him. And right now, right this minute, being with Oliver felt like the most important thing in the world. So she pushed all those thoughts down, smothering them as best she could for the time being, and she took a deep breath in, letting her heart guide her as she reached for the handle and opened the door and stepped inside.

“Oh, good, you’re here already,” Oliver spoke the moment Felicity entered the hallway, his large body moving instantly toward her from the living room.

“I’m here,” she whispered, barely getting her words out for the wild flutter of her pulse. Oliver remained just as intimidating as ever, walking to her like a wolf in expertly tailored sheep’s clothing, his defined muscles moving with unforced grace beneath his short sleeve shirt and fitted pants. She had to remind herself that he was real, and that she was capable of being here with him, and that her heart couldn’t actually physically explode just from looking at him.

“Did Maseo point you to your new parking spot?” Oliver questioned with utter nonchalance as he stepped into her personal space.

Felicity’s gaze rose to his, her head nodding mechanically.

“Good.” His bright blue eyes drifted down to her arms. “Is that a fern from your office?”

“Yes.”

“Did you bring it so we could have it here?”

She nodded again, and found herself smiling. “I did.”

Oliver leaned forward, sliding his lips onto hers for a soft, easy moment, before he eased back. “That’s wonderful, Felicity. You can put it anywhere you like.”

“Okay,” she agreed, still feeling his warmth against her mouth as she stepped through the front hallway and into the living room. She set the plant down on the end table beside one of the large sofas, and then stood back to stare at it.

“Do you like the way it looks there?” Oliver questioned from beside her.

“Yeah, I do.”

“Good.”

Felicity turned her eyes up to his, watching as he grinned.

“Can I please see your car keys, Felicity?”

“My keys?”

“Yes.”

She opened her palm up to show him her key chain.

Oliver took the small bundle from her hand, and then reached into his pocket and pulled out another key, and slipped it onto the chain to rest beside her others. “I made a copy of the house key for you,” he explained as he set the chain back into her hand. “I don’t ever want you to have to knock to enter here. I want you to be able to come in anytime you desire.”

Gripping the keys tight in her hand, Felicity stared up into his eyes. She remembered all the times up at Blue when she’d grabbed Oliver by the hand and tugged him off of the porch and into her cabin, and that’s what this felt like now – like Oliver tugging her inside – and her head swam, and her stomach ached with wild butterflies, and her legs barely held her up. But then he smiled at her, and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. His warmth infused her skin, and gave her a voice again. “Thank you for this, Oliver.”

“Of course. And now, if you don’t mind, we really should get going. There are a couple people waiting on us.”

“People?”

“Yup. Come on.”

Felicity let him guide her back out of the living room, and through the front door, and down the hallway. She watched him push the elevator button, and then looked up to his eyes. “Can I ask who is waiting for us?”

Oliver grinned. “I thought you wanted this trip to be a surprise.”

“I do,” she admitted. “I want it to be a surprise.”

He leaned over to press a kiss to her hair. “Thank you for coming with me this weekend.”

When the elevator door opened, Oliver reached down, taking her hand in his. Felicity watched their fingers thread together, and felt his large palm engulfing her smaller one, and she smiled at the sight. “I would go anywhere with you,” she whispered, knowing it was the truth.

Oliver exhaled as he pulled her into the shiny elevator. “Thank goodness for that.”

Felicity couldn’t stop smiling while they rode down to the ground floor together, or while they walked out to the garage, or while Oliver opened the passenger door of his Porsche so she could get inside. She waited impatiently in her seat as Oliver transferred her suitcase from the trunk of her car to the trunk of his, where he’d apparently already placed his own luggage. And she kept smiling when he sunk down in the driver’s seat, and started the engine, and drove them out of the parking garage.

“So, how was your day?” he questioned as they turned onto the main road.

Felicity stared out of the windshield, to the beautiful rays of the sun setting in the distance. “It was a really good day,” she replied, her eyes attaching to the magnificent pinks and blues decorating the sky. “Although I missed you terribly.”

“Did you despise every second you were away from me?”

“Of course.”

He chuckled. “I had the same kind of day, then.”

Felicity turned her face to his, taking in the lines of his profile, her heartbeat quickening with just the sight of him here beside her. Oliver glanced back at her, his eyes meeting hers for the briefest moment before he refocused on the road. He shifted his left hand to the top of the steering wheel, so he could reach over to her with his right, and thread their fingers together. Then he brought her hand up to his lips, and pressed a soft kiss to the back.

She giggled with the sweet gesture, and with the feel of his scratchy stubble.

“Did Marie like the gifts I sent over?” he questioned as he rested their entwined hands down against her thigh.

Felicity turned her eyes to his, reading the concern on his crinkled brow. “Yeah, she loved them. But she said you can stop sending her things now, because she’s decided that she adores you.”

Oliver’s face softened. “It was the teddy bear, wasn’t it?”

“In a way, I suppose. If you consider yourself the teddy bear in this scenario.”

“But…I thought I was a grizzly bear, which is why you decided to poke me with a stick.”

“You’re not a grizzly anymore. You’re definitely a teddy bear now.”

He grinned. “Well, I’m okay with that, as long as you are.”

“Definitely okay with that,” she said, squeezing onto his hand and watching his expression settle into one of peaceful contentment. Felicity looked back out of the windshield, seeing the sun sink farther down in the horizon while Oliver drove them onto the highway.

By the time the sun descended, and the sky changed to soft black with dots of starlight, Oliver pulled off the highway and onto a long single road. Felicity read a sign by the roadside, her eyes widening behind her glasses. “Is this a private airfield, Oliver?”

“It is,” he acknowledged, slowing the Porsche when they approached the end of the path. “This is where our plane is.”

Felicity watched a small airfield come into view through the windshield, and saw two figures standing on a runway beside a moderately sized airplane with the letter Q painted on the side. “Is this your own personal plane?”

“No, not mine personally. It belongs to the company,” he explained while he parked the car and shut off the engine. Oliver turned to her, pulling her hand to his mouth again, to press another kiss to her skin. “The plane is mostly used for business trips overseas. Actually, I’ve never used it for pleasure before. But I figure I’m the CEO, and there’s a first time for everything, so I thought we could take it for the weekend.”

Felicity watched as one of the two men standing by the aircraft came walking over to them. “Wow. I’ve never been on a private plane before.”

“I hope you’ll enjoy it,” Oliver offered, smiling into her eyes before stepping out of the car. Felicity pulled her purse strap over her shoulder, and then jumped out of her seat, waving at the person who approached.

“You must be Felicity,” the ginger-haired young man said. “I’m Brett, the co-pilot for your flight tonight. And I’ll also be your steward and bellhop.”

Brett grinned wildly while he shook Felicity’s hand, and she couldn’t help smiling back. “Thank you so much, Brett. I appreciate it.”

A rosy flush lit the boy’s freckled cheeks. “It’s no problem, Ma’am.”

Oliver came around the car with their luggage then, and Brett dropped Felicity’s hand in order to lunge for the suitcases. “Let me get those for you, Mr. Queen.”

“Thank you,” Oliver replied, stepping back to her side while Brett grabbed their bags.

Felicity watched the gangly young man move swiftly back to the plane, and smiled to herself at his obvious exuberance for his job. “Brett is sweet,” she mentioned when Oliver reached for the small of her back, his fingers warming her skin through the thin material of her purple blouse.

“He is. And the Captain is great. I’ll introduce you.”

She allowed Oliver to guide her to the steps of the aircraft, where a tall, older man stood in uniform. He smiled when they approached. “Good evening, Mr. Queen.”

Oliver extended his hand to shake the pilot’s.   “Good to see you, Rick.”

“You too, Sir. And this must be Felicity.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Captain,” she said, shaking his hand as well. “Thank you so much for taking us…wherever we’re going.”

Captain Rick smiled. “You’re welcome. Now come on aboard and we’ll get you there safe and sound.”

Oliver’s hand at her back guided Felicity forward, and she took her time ascending the stairs up into the plane. She ducked through the main door, to where Brett already waited for her. “Right this way,” he offered with an extended arm.

Felicity turned to her right, stepping past a thick blue curtain in order to enter the main cabin of the aircraft. It was spacious and roomy, with only three executive-style large leather chairs lining either side of the plane, each with their own window and copious amounts of legroom. An overhead light lit the space brightly, along with two strips of tiny lights running across the floorboards, twinkling like little stars. A plush, cushiony blue carpet lay beneath the seats, and Felicity felt oddly like she was walking on air as she stepped onto it.

“This is really beautiful,” she thought aloud, adjusting her glasses while she moved to the first chair on her right. “Is it okay if I sit here?”

“Oh, yes. Sit anywhere you like. Although, probably not up there,” Brett amended, hitching his thumb toward the front of the plane.

Felicity glanced over Brett’s shoulder to the cockpit, which lay just a few feet past the blue curtain. “I guess you and Captain Rick sit there?” she asked while sinking into the huge leather seat that swallowed her entire body with room to spare.

“Yes, but if you need anything at all, you just scream and I’ll come running. Well, I mean, don’t actually _scream_ , because that would be scary. But call out for me anytime.”

Oliver entered the cabin then, stepping past Brett and focusing immediately on her. “Are you comfortable, baby?”

Felicity allowed her purse to fall onto the carpet beside her chair. “I will be if I can take my shoes off.”

“Of course you can take your shoes off,” Oliver said, offering her a wicked little grin that suggested she could take off anything she wanted.

Her eyes darted to Brett, and Brett’s eyes darted away, his pale skin flushing as he stepped back through the curtain. A moment later, he returned with two glasses of red wine. “Here you are,” he said, handing her the first glass before offering the second to Oliver.

Felicity watched Oliver grasp the stem in his hand while he sat down in the chair adjacent to hers, which was still several feet away.

“I’ll be serving dinner as soon as we’re in the air,” the young man offered.

Her brow arched at the statement. “We’re having dinner on the flight? How long are we going to be in the air?”

She watched Brett glance nervously in Oliver’s direction, silently asking permission to answer the question. Oliver nodded his consent, and Brett exhaled when he looked back to her. “About four and half hours, Ma’am.”

“Oh. Alright. Thank you.”

“It’s no problem. Anything you need at all, you just let me know.”

“You don’t have to wait on me, Brett. Although I appreciate that so much.”

“Well, it’s my job, so I’ll just be right up here in the cockpit. You’ll need to buckle up for takeoff now, but after we’re in the air you can move around a bit, if you need to. The restroom is in the very back of the cabin.”

“Thanks again.”

Brett nodded before stepping away, pulling the blue curtain fully shut as he joined Captain Rick in the front of the plane. Felicity took a sip of her wine before setting the glass down in the drink holder beside her. She slipped off her shoes, letting her toes sink into the soft carpet before she buckled herself into her seat. Then she glanced out of her window, staring out to the dark sky and the illuminated runway.

“Wow. This is all so lovely, Oliver. Thank you for bringing me.”

“Don’t thank me yet. You don’t even know where we’re going.”

Felicity met his blue eyes with hers. “It doesn’t matter. Wherever we go, I know I’ll be thrilled. Because I’ll be with you.”

Oliver stared into her across the small space between them. “I love you, Felicity.”

She smiled wildly. “I love you, too.”

He returned her smile, and then set his wine glass beside him and reached for his seatbelt. Oliver’s seat was just as huge as hers, and Felicity half-wished she could have told him to scoot over and let her sit beside him. But she didn’t think Brett would approve of that, so stayed where she was, and listened to the muffled sound of the two male voices coming from the cockpit, as the plane began taxying down the runway.

Within moments, they were up in the air and on to smooth sailing, and Brett came back with a cart full of food. He brought chicken salad and cheese and fruit, and Felicity sat happily in her chair, eating her dinner with Oliver across from her. They both enjoyed the meal, and several glasses of wine, and talking to Brett, who told them about how he’d just graduated flight school and was excited to sit beside an experienced ex-Air Force pilot like Captain Rick.

By the time they finished their food and drink, Felicity felt quite fond of the talkative, bubbly boy. She smiled into Brett’s green eyes, and gave him a little wave, when he stepped back behind the blue curtain with the food cart. Then she sunk further into the leather chair, which still felt entirely too big. “You know, Brett reminds me a bit of Roy,” she thought aloud.

“Yeah, I could see that,” Oliver agreed, turning toward her in his seat. “Speaking of which, I meant to tell you…I asked Roy to come work for me when he finishes school.”

Felicity looked back to him. “You did?”

“Yes.”

“I – I don’t know if he’s ready to leave Blue yet.”

“Actually, he’s gone already. He turned in his resignation the day I left.”

“Hmm. That’s odd; I thought he was still saving up for his last year of school.”

“He was. But I may have written him a check, so he could go back to school now.”

Her brow rose. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

Felicity stared into Oliver’s brilliant blue for a long minute, captivated by all the kindness and generosity inside him, and feeling the love inside her grow even stronger in response. “You’re amazing. Just absolutely, completely amazing.”

He smiled softly as he leaned toward her, resting his forearms onto his thighs. “I don’t know about that; I just wanted to help him, because he helped me. Roy helped me, and you helped me, and Lance helped me. So I wanted the chance to help someone, too.”

The few feet separating them now somehow felt like a chasm, and Felicity pulled toward him, straining the buckle on her seatbelt. “You know, Oliver, we’ve talked so much about me in the past few days, but I don’t feel like we’ve talked enough about you. How are you doing with everything, since you left Blue?”

“I’m – I’m okay. I’m better than okay, actually, because I’m with you. Although I know that’s not what you’re asking me.”

Felicity clasped her hands together on her lap, wanting nothing more than to reach for him. “Are you really okay?”

Oliver nodded. “I am. I went back into the woods again, the day before I left Blue. I sat in the forest, and I talked to Carrie, and I felt like she heard me. Which honestly made all the difference in the world.”

“That’s wonderful,” Felicity breathed. “That’s just… _wonderful_. I’m so glad you found what you needed in that forest.”

“I did. I definitely found what I needed,” he vowed, his intent gaze pinning her eyes for a moment before he glanced down to her clenched hands. “Although I should probably stay in therapy, at least for a while. I told Lance that I would stay in therapy, and as mad as I am at him for making you sign away your firstborn child just for the chance to try to heal yourself up on that mountain, I’m still aware that he helped me and I want to keep my promise to him.”

Oliver looked back to her eyes. “So maybe you could recommend a good therapist for me to see when we return home?”

She gave him a soft smile. “I could do that.”

“Good.”

Felicity kept her gaze glued to his. “You know, when we do return home, I think I’d like to talk to John some more…as a patient.”

Oliver listened intently to her words, and then his shoulders fell on a sigh. He closed his eyelids, just for a moment, before meeting her gaze again. “I know he’ll appreciate you talking to him, Felicity. I know how much he cares for you, and how much he wants to help you heal.”

“I know he wants to help me heal,” she said, looking deep into Oliver’s blue. “Because he’s such an amazing man.”

A smile pulled up his lips, and he nodded gently.

Felicity spent the next few minutes just watching him, and feeling the warmth and strength radiating from his body, and appreciating the way his loving gaze traveled over her face. And she could feel his arms around her, even though he didn’t physically touch her at all. She knew Oliver wrapped her up tight and warm and secure, just by being in her life, and that sense of peace allowed her body to sink comfortably into her leather seat for the first time, and allowed a yawn to sneak out of her mouth.

Oliver shook his head. “You didn’t get enough sleep last night, did you?”

“Hmm…I got more than you did.”

“Do you want to take a little nap now? We’re going to be in the air for a while.”

“I don’t know. Will you nap, too?”

He unbuckled his seatbelt. “No, I’ll go talk to Rick and Brett. They can keep me company while you sleep.”

“Is that because Oliver Queen doesn’t nap?”

“You’re right, I don’t,” he confirmed as he rose out of his seat. “Too much wasted time.”

Those words reached deep inside her, and Felicity craned her neck to look up to his face while he stood. Oliver stretched his arm to the overhead cabin light and turned it off, plunging the space into darkness, except for the tiny safety stars twinkling along the length of the floor. The softness and peace of the dim glow surrounded her, and Felicity sighed.

Pausing in front of her chair, Oliver captured her eyes while he ran his fingers down across her cheek. “Just rest for a while, Felicity. I’ll pull the curtain, and ask Rick and Brett to be extra quiet.” He leaned over, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“Thank you,” she said, smiling up at him while he stepped away from her, drawing the thick blue drape all the way over as he disappeared on the other side.

Felicity stilled the moment he’d gone, just staring after him.

She could hear Oliver’s muffled voice behind that blue wall of fabric, along with Captain Rick’s deep tone, and Brett’s softer one, while the men spoke to each other. She knew they were trying to be quiet for her sake, so she could rest, but Felicity didn’t really know if that was possible. Even though she should probably try.

Laying her head back against her seat, she forced her eyes closed, and concentrated on the sound of the plane’s engine, hoping the lulling hum would guide her to sleep. Felicity knew Oliver had left so she could rest, but she also knew he’d left in order to give her a little time to herself. She appreciated that gesture. She loved that he cared enough to allow her space to breathe. And she knew she should _want_ that space. She should _want_ some time away from him. Especially since she hadn’t had anywhere near enough time to dwell on all the thoughts that had chased her down throughout the day.

“Too much wasted time,” she whispered to herself, repeating the words Oliver had just said – the words now moving deep inside her brain. She resituated herself in the big, suddenly cold chair, trying to find a position of comfort. But no matter how she wriggled or twisted, she couldn’t escape those words in her head, or the thousand thoughts she’d barely kept at bay since she’d first showed up at Oliver’s house yesterday.

Felicity had gone willingly to his home last night, for their second date. Willingly, but cautiously. Because she believed they needed to take their time with this relationship. But she also knew that Oliver didn’t want to wait, or to be cautious. He simply didn’t want to waste any more time being apart.

_I love you, Felicity._

_I love you, Oliver._

His declaration played over and over in her brain, along with her own. They hadn’t even known each other for three weeks, and yet here they were, in love. In _love_.

God, this made no sense at all. Everything about the two of them had been a whirlwind, from the moment they laid eyes on each other. So much had happened in such a short amount of time, and Felicity simply hadn’t had enough time to think it all through the way she wanted to. Because every minute she spent with Oliver changed the course of her thinking from the minute prior, and she’d gone from the desire for a snail’s-pace relationship yesterday, to sitting on plane and flying with him to who-knows-where today.

He’d asked her just this morning what she would do if she didn’t _think_ at all. He’d asked what she would do if she just went with her _feelings_. And that answer had been easy and simple and clear: Felicity would stay with Oliver, always.

She knew how she _felt_. That wasn’t the problem. The problem was her _brain_.

Taking a deep breath in, Felicity exhaled slowly and calmly, and forced her body to still against the engulfing seat. She could feel the physician inside her surfacing now; she could feel all her years of training kicking in, encouraging her to be practical about these feelings. So instead of allowing her body the rest it most certainly needed, Felicity decided to take this time Oliver had given her to think through the tornado of emotions inside her.

Because she _did_ love Oliver. Absolutely. But Felicity needed to decide what _kind_ of love they shared, in order to wrap her mind around her heart.

She understood the psychology of love, because she’d studied it: Lee’s theories of Agape, Storge, Mania, Eros, Ludus and Pragma; as well as Sternberg’s theories based on the three building blocks of love. Felicity preferred Sternberg’s model, with its three pillars – intimacy, commitment, and passion – forming the ideal triangle of a relationship. She knew love could exist between two individuals with one or two of these components only, although that love probably wouldn’t make either person truly happy in the long run. Because the ideal love consisted of all three pillars, each in an equal and supportive relationship with the other two.

Felicity also understood the kind of love she’d experienced in the past. She knew exactly what she’d had with her ex-fiancé, Ray; they’d had commitment and, for the most part, intimacy. But they never really had passion. At the time, she was okay with that. She’d been concentrating on being a doctor, and building her practice, and giving herself to the service of others. So all she’d wanted at that point in her life was a simple, sturdy relationship to come home to. That’s what Ray gave her. That’s what they gave each other.

In the long run, she and Ray were simply companions, and Felicity accepted that; she knew she could have lived her entire life that way. She actually intended to, when she agreed to his marriage proposal. But then, when her father died, it changed everything for her. It changed the way she saw her entire world. Because she’d chosen a man just like her father to be with, and even though Felicity knew she still wanted to be a doctor, she also knew she didn’t just want a companion to come home to.

So she broke up with Ray. And that was a good decision; it was the right decision, even if it hurt them both at the time. Felicity didn’t really think about being in another relationship after that. Honestly, she didn’t know if she could ever find a man to share all three of those pillars of love with, so she didn’t go in search of it. She just decided to concentrate on being a physician, because that was all she really knew.

Her mother didn’t approve, of course. Donna Smoak tried to tell her daughter that life was more than just work. But at the time, Felicity didn’t want to hear it. Because work was her stability, work was all she knew, and she needed it. Felicity also knew that her single-mindedness about her job was one of the reasons her mother left Starling and moved to Las Vegas. Donna couldn’t get through to her daughter the way she wanted to, so she left to start a new life for herself.

Felicity thought a lot about her parents’ relationship during those long nights she’d spent alone after she left Ray. She believed her parents had a fatuous love at first – they’d had passion as young people, and made a commitment based on that alone. But they were too different, and they never really had intimacy. So when the passion diminished, all that remained between them was commitment. Donna Smoak stayed committed to her husband until the day he died, and Felicity didn’t blame her for running off to start a new life when her commitment was over.

 _Commitment_.

Honestly, commitment was the only pillar of love Felicity didn’t entirely have with Oliver right now. They definitely had intimacy – she’d shared more of her soul with that man than she’d shared with anyone in her life, and she knew he’d done the same with her – and it formed a bond between them that felt unbreakable. They also had passion – holy hell, did they have passion. In her mind, the passion between them just went without saying, because she honestly didn’t know what to say about it.

All that remained for them now was to be committed to each other. Felicity knew she and Oliver were headed in that direction, and eventually they would get there. Because she knew, deep down in her soul, that Oliver was her forever. And she understood that, once they decided to fully commit to each other, they would have all three pillars of the triangle, and they would have the ultimate, consummate love. It was the kind of love she’d only ever hoped for in her wildest dreams, and not the kind of love she saw very often.

She didn’t normally see consummate love, because the patients she treated were usually disillusioned with life, and part of that disillusionment came from their actual, or perceived, lack of love. Felicity could see so easily how her patients felt, because treating patients was what Dr. Felicity Smoak knew. It was what she understood.

Dr. Smoak just hadn’t done all that well at understanding herself.

Felicity directed her mind back to this past Monday, to the last patient she saw that day: Mrs. Sanderson, whose pain and addiction had manifested itself into nearly every aspect of her life. Mrs. Sanderson had trouble seeing the forest for the trees, and if Felicity was being brutally honest with herself, she knew she’d traveled that same road. The pain over losing a patient right in front her eyes made Dr. Smoak question every single thing in her life, even while she clung to her work as the only life raft in a turbulent ocean. And when that pain and addiction became too much to bear, she went to Blue, in search of herself.

She went to Blue looking for joy and wonder and magic. She went to take photos of trees and leaves and beautiful creatures, and to remember the love she held for nature. She went to be a child, and a fairy, and a bird, and to figure out if she could ever come back home as a doctor.

Shifting forward in her seat now, Felicity eased her hand down to her purse, where it sat on the floor. Her fingers wrapped around the book lying inside it, and she pulled Oliver’s gift into her lap. Reaching up to turn on the reading lamp above her head, Felicity watched the tiny spotlight illuminate the pages while she opened the cover.

Ruffling through the paper, she found the page she wanted instantly, because it was marked by the photo of the sunrise, and also by the two leaves she’d brought home from her journey at Blue. Felicity pulled both leaves out and set them on her skirt, and then focused in on the picture of her bird: the yellow-crowned purple fantini. She smiled as she read over the words Oliver wrote for her.

_Upon deeper inspection, the bird is actually soft, and tender, and loyal, and loving, and brave…one of the rarest creatures in the entire world, and the most beautiful, inside and out…please don’t attempt to lock it in a cage…this bird needs to be free to live and explore and dream…this bird needs to fly._

Felicity took a ragged breath in, her eyes misting up as her heart and her mind wrapped around his words. Because last night, when Felicity finally told Oliver what happened to take away the color red – when she finally allowed herself to collapse completely in his arms – Oliver had held her down, encompassing her with his entire body, grounding her to the earth. And that was just what she’d needed, at that moment in time.

But right now, they were up here together, among the clouds. Today, Oliver offered to give her surprises, and shower her with magic, and set her free. And Felicity knew this was exactly what she needed, at this moment in time.

She turned to her gaze to the window beside her then, looking out to the dark night. She remembered how lost and confused she felt when she got to Blue: weak and beaten, and questioning every decision she ever made. Questioning the expectations placed on her by her mother and father, and the expectations she’d placed on herself. She remembered how strange it felt to get lost in the woods the day she started her vacation, only to wander out on the road to find Oliver waiting for her. That moment felt so bizarre, and yet still so perfect, and making the decision to help him wasn’t really a decision at all. Helping him felt as necessary and right as breathing, and she never thought twice about pushing Oliver through his pain.

By the end of their two weeks together, Felicity could see so clearly how changing Oliver’s world had changed her own. And she came to the irrefutable conclusion that she needed to go back to the real world, to be a doctor again. Because Oliver had showed her that she could still be brave and strong, and that she could still help people.

So she returned to her office Monday morning, intent on being Dr. Felicity Smoak, because that’s what she thought was right. She thought she needed to leave behind that freebird she’d discovered in the forest, and return to her serious, solemn ways. She thought that Oliver teaching her that she _could_ be a doctor again meant that she should refocus her entire life on her work, just like before.

Felicity never expected him to show up in her office that same day. She never expected him to come barreling back into her life, challenging everything she thought was definite and infallible. But that’s exactly what Oliver did: he challenged everything, and in doing so he opened a million doors for her, showing her a world she’d long ago stopped believing in.

But staring out at the sky now, at the perfect, beautiful night sky with its twinkling stars and dotted clouds, Felicity could feel the difference Oliver made in her life. She could feel an indescribable energy flowing through her veins, and lifting her up. _My little bird_ – that’s what he’d called her this morning. And that’s who she’d been there, in his home, with him. This morning, she’d been bouncy and bubbly and light and free.

Felicity’s gaze dropped from the window back down to her book, and to the two little leaves resting in her lap. She grasped onto their stems, and twirled them together in her hand: green and red, red and green, merged so perfectly together. Felicity had never felt merged with anyone before like she did now, with Oliver. And it was frightening in a way, to know how deeply bonded they were, and how easily she could lose herself in him. Because she’d been so independent for so long, and part of her feared letting that independence go. But the other part of her understood that she hadn’t lost anything in him – in truth, they’d found themselves in each other – and being with Oliver wouldn’t cage her. It would set her free.  

Felicity took a shaky breath in as she looked back to the book, and to the last words Oliver wrote for her. _This bird needs to fly_. Brushing an errant tear from her cheek, she stared down at the photo of her yellow-crowned purple fantini: the bird she’d found in that forest, with Oliver by her side. The bird she’d brought home with her. The freebird sitting here now, so deeply and happily entrenched in a new world.

 _This bird needs to fly_. Oliver wrote those words to her, and Felicity understood now just how true they were. So she rested the leaves back inside the book, along with the beautiful picture of the red sunrise, and the image of her bird. She layered all the pieces, and then closed the cover, pressing them all together. And then she stilled, and smiled, and breathed.

A moment later, the sound of approaching footsteps pulled her head up, drawing her gaze to the blue curtain as Oliver pushed it open just enough to peek his head through. His eyes found hers instantly, and Felicity’s smile only grew.

“You’re still awake?” he questioned, his voice soft and tender.

She straightened in her seat. “Yeah, I just…I couldn’t sleep. So I read a little.”

Oliver glanced down to the book she held, and grinned a little to himself, before stepping through the curtain and pulling it shut behind him. Then he walked back to his seat, settled himself inside the soft leather, and looked to her. “You’ve just been sitting here, reading?”

“Well, reading and thinking.”

“Thinking?” he echoed, focusing in on her eyes. “Anything you want to talk about?”

Felicity shook her head. “No, thank you. It’s…it’s all good.”

“Alright, well, I don’t want to disturb you. Do you think you could still rest if I sit here with you? I promise I’ll be really quiet.”

“Honestly, I’d prefer it if you’re here with me. I have trouble resting without you.”

Oliver listened intently to her words before offering her a gentle nod. “I’ll just stay here and keep quiet then,” he assured, easing back against the large seat and turning his head toward the window. He took a deep breath in, his broad shoulders falling on exhale while he stared into the shifting clouds and distant lights outside of the plane.

Felicity watched him for a long time, taking comfort in the easy strength of Oliver’s solid body sitting so close to hers. Everything about this man, here with her now, felt so certain and so steady. Oliver was grounded in every way, and yet he was still here, up in the clouds, right beside her. And Felicity knew he would do anything for her, and give her anything he could, to allow her to fly. That kind of love astonished and astounded and overwhelmed her, and honestly, the magnitude of it was difficult to wrap her heart around, let alone her mind. But she wanted to do her damnedest to try.

Felicity leaned forward, to set her book back into her bag on the floor. She slipped her glasses off of her nose, and set them in her purse along with the book. Then she reached up to the reading lamp, and switched it back off, dimming the light in the cabin to just the tiny stars along the floor. Finally, she grasped her seat belt and undid the clasp.

Oliver turned to her when he heard the sound of her seatbelt coming undone, and watched as she rose from her chair.

“Can I sit with you?” she asked once she’d taken the last few steps toward him.

“Of course.”

The moment he agreed, Felicity plopped down sideways into his lap, throwing her arms around his neck and leaning her shoulder up against his. Oliver wrapped his arms around her immediately, pulling her in tight to his chest. She sighed with the feel of his warmth, and stilled when he closed his eyes, pressing his forehead into the hair beside her temple.

“You feel incredibly good,” Oliver spoke against her loose curls.

Felicity exhaled. “So do you.”

He hummed against her, his breath flushing hot against her cheek, his fingers squeezing into the soft fabric of her shirt. Oliver was warmth and safety and fulfillment, and Felicity allowed herself this moment of peace to look back out of the dark window, watching the lighter clouds roll past the wings. He held her so solid and so secure against his body, and yet Felicity felt utterly weightless in his arms.

“Look, Oliver,” she whispered, nodding toward the window. “I’m flying.”

He raised his head then, just to see her face, and Felicity stared into his brilliant blue.

“You are flying, Felicity.”

“And you’re right here, flying with me.”

Oliver didn’t take his eyes off of hers. “No place I’d rather be.”

She smiled then. Felicity smiled with all of her heart and soul, feeling that happiness so deep inside her that it radiated out through every part of her body. The joy of all they’d shared, and all he meant to her, overtook everything at once. And all she could do was stare into him and breathe, “I love you.”

His arms tightened around her. “I love you.”

Tears lit the corners of her eyes, and Felicity had difficulty breathing, because her chest felt so tight, so swollen from the sheer emotion inside her. She angled her body further toward his, to tighten her arms around his neck, to hold him as close to her as she could. She just wanted him here, with her. She just wanted them together. Because Felicity understood now that she would do anything to be with Oliver, and to give him all that he gave her, and to love him with everything she had inside her.

Oliver held her back, hard and strong, and Felicity tried to shift her hips so she could press her chest and lips fully onto his. The angle wasn’t quite right, but he still kissed her perfectly, his mouth smoothing over hers, his tongue seeking and insistent even as it caressed and soothed. Felicity’s fingers tightened into his shoulders while she kissed him back, but frustration built inside her. Because sitting sideways like this just wasn’t giving her the contact she wanted to have with him at this moment.

“Wait,” she breathed when she managed to pull her lips away from his. “I need…”

“What do you need, baby?”

“I need to be closer. Just _closer_.”

Oliver didn’t take his eyes from her hers as she straightened, but he did let his arms fall to his sides so Felicity could stand from the chair and turn her body to fully face his. He watched her fingers reach for the hem of her skirt, hiking the taut material up to the tops of her thighs so she could spread her legs apart. Then she crawled back on top of him, straddling his hips, her knees meeting the back of the large chair while her chest fell against his.

Felicity encased Oliver with her arms, wrapping them over each other around the back of his neck. Her breasts shifted on his chest as she breathed in roughly, the air still having difficulty making its way to her lungs when her heart ached and throbbed with this need for him. She kissed him again, pressing her lips hard to his, eager and aching for the feel of his mouth and the taste of his tongue, unable to hide her rising desperation.

Oliver ran his hands up and down her spine, his fingers pressing into the material of her shirt, while he kissed her back. And Felicity loved the feel of his mouth, but Oliver’s kiss was so soft and gentle and tender. It matched hers, but it also didn’t, because she could feel him working to restrain himself.   Felicity didn’t want that. Not right now. She was free. She was flying. They were both flying, and she didn’t want any restraints placed on them.

She whimpered while she pressed herself closer to him, shifting her hips forward into his. He was already hardening for her. Oliver’s rising erection pulsed between her thighs while she arched her body onto his, rubbing the edge of her thong panties up against his zipper. The sensation made his breath catch, and pulled a moan from deep in her throat.

Oliver unlatched his fingers from her shirt and moved them to her cheeks, holding her jaw in both hands in order to ease her face away by just an inch. “Felicity,” he breathed, searching her blue with his own, “are you okay right now?”

She dug her fingers into his hair. “I am. I’m perfect…except for the fact that I just can’t get close enough. I can never be close enough to you.”

His eyes narrowed with her words, his voice coming out rough and deep. “God, I know that feeling.”

Oliver sat bolt upright in the chair, just to get a better hold on her, to pull her closer, to lodge her body up against his. His thick arms spanned her body twice over, his hands fisting into her shirt again. Then he fell back on the leather, taking her deeper into the chair with him.

Felicity widened her legs, spreading her knees even further apart as Oliver urged her onto him. The motion pressed his stiffening length into the soft skin at the juncture of her thighs, and Felicity let out a barely-stifled cry. Oliver growled at the sound, his biceps tensing while his pupils widened exponentially in the dimly lit cabin.

Oliver wanted her; that much was perfectly clear. But Felicity didn’t want him to simply _want_ her. She wanted him to feel _desperate_ for her, just as desperate as she felt for him. So she arched her hips into his body, rubbing her sex up against his erection, over and over, pressing the thin, silky fabric of her thong panties against the stretched material of his pants. She held onto his hair, and ran her nose against the side of his, their hot breaths mingling together as his cock thickened and pulsed with her rhythmic, needy thrusts.

He cursed beneath his breath, his hips shifting greedily to meet hers, his entire body responding with eager intensity to every movement she made. His rapid and obvious desire for her gave Felicity courage in the midst of her desperation. “I want you inside me,” she panted. “I need to feel you inside me _right now_. I need it so badly.”

Oliver stilled, his balled hands easing against her shirt. His eyes searched hers for a long moment. Then he nodded. “I want that, too. I always need to be inside you. Always.”

Felicity moaned with the words, shifting her hips again.

A groan escaped his throat. “Damn, baby. If we’re going to do this, we need to be quiet. We are definitely not the only two people on this plane.”

“I can be quiet,” she breathed, settling back a bit on his lap, releasing her hands from his hair so she could move them down to his chest. Felicity trailed her fingers over his shirt, and onto his pants, reaching for the button straining tight over his swollen length.

Oliver’s arms uncurled from her back, his hands shifting across her low spine before tracing a path to her waist. He found the curved lines of her hipbones beneath her skirt and squeezed tight to them. Then he leaned in to press his mouth to hers again, his tongue slipping softly past her lips. Oliver tasted her with purpose and reverence, controlling his movements far better than Felicity could control hers.

She barely got his pants’ button open for the trembling of her fingers, and took forever just to undo his zipper. But she did manage to finally free him, and take his thick, rigid shaft into her hand, and slide her fingers up and down the taut skin. He throbbed against her palm, and the feel of his hot, stretched skin pulled another moan from her throat.

The needy sound of her voice and insistent movement of her fingers finally broke him entirely, and Oliver dug his hands into the material of her skirt, pulling hard against the seams. “I need you _now_ ,” he spoke against her lips, his voice gritty with urgency.

Felicity whimpered. “Yes. _Yes_. It’s just…my underwear…”

“I’ve got it,” he assured, even if those words came out strained and barely audible. He brought both of his hands down from her hips to the hem of her skirt, gathering the material roughly in his fingers in order to push it up even higher, to bunch beneath her bottom. Then he steadied her body with one hand against her low back while he dragged his other hand across the front of her thigh and down between her legs, reaching for her panties. Oliver traced across the waistband of her thongs before sliding his fingers down, over the silky fabric covering her sex.

Felicity knew the little green scrap of fabric at the juncture of her thighs had become thoroughly wet from her need, and her breath caught when Oliver felt it and growled his approval at her body’s eagerness for him. He slipped his fingers beneath the tiny edge of the material, and pulled it gently off to one side, opening her up to him. Felicity didn’t hesitate, not even for a second. She bit into her lip, and tightened her grip on his cock, directing the thick head down between her thighs as she arched up on her knees to shift herself closer to him.

The moment his rigid erection met the wet skin of her sex, Felicity sank onto him. She slid down slow but hard, lodging herself fully onto his long length as her hands flew to his hair, her fingers tightening against his scalp. They both sucked in a breath with the descent, and then moaned softly with the completion, each struggling to maintain control over the uncontrollable sounds pushing from their throats.

Her legs fell off the chair then, dangling over either side, the tips of her toes just reaching the carpet. Oliver wrapped both of his arms around her again, splaying his hands across her back and urging her body fully onto his chest. Felicity groaned with the warm, fulfilled, protected sensation, burying her face into his neck to muffle the noises she couldn’t prevent. “Damn, this is perfect,” she whispered against his skin.

Oliver ran his hands up her spine and onto her shoulders, clasping one shoulder beneath each of his large palms and pulling down, securing her onto him. The action pushed his cock up even further inside her, sending an arc of electricity through all her sensitive nerve endings. Felicity whimpered and Oliver pressed his lips to her cheek before speaking. “It is perfect. It’s the most perfect thing in the entire world.”

She shuddered. “I just needed to have you inside me. This is where you belong.”

“You’re right. I definitely belong here.”

His confirmation of that thought made her smile, and she raised her head to look into his eyes. “I love you. Have I told you that recently?”

“Not recently enough,” he replied, his hands drifting up from her shoulders into her loose curls. “You can always tell me again, and again.”

Felicity pressed her legs down, making full contact with the carpet beneath her feet, so she could arch up a few inches before sinking back onto him. He hissed out a breath with her actions, and she smiled. “I love you, Oliver. I love, love, love you.”

He tightened his hands in her hair, his eyes locking onto hers in the dark, barely lit cabin. “Say it again. Please.”

She rose up, and pushed back down, listening raptly to his sharp inhale. “I love you.”

Oliver sat up then, straightening in the chair to press his chest fully onto hers. “God, I love you so much, Felicity. I love you _so damn_ much.”

His words pulled a cry from her throat, and she blinked back the moisture from her eyes as she looked into his brilliant blue. “I want to stay like this forever. I never want to leave.”

“That sounds so good,” he admitted, smiling softly while his gaze drifted across her face. “Although it might make things a bit awkward when we reach the ground again.”

“But…can’t we just keep flying?”

Oliver watched her for a long minute, and then nodded. “Absolutely. We’ll just keep flying. Because we can do that, as long as we’re together. You know that, don’t you?”

“I do know,” she admitted, lifting herself up again, and then sinking back onto him, feeling his thick length pulse inside her sex with the motion. Oliver groaned, low and deep in his chest, the shade of his eyes darkening a hundredfold. Then he shifted his hips, inciting her hot, slick flesh to throb around him. A shock of electricity ran through her body and she whimpered.

Pressing her forehead onto his, Felicity closed her eyes and breathed in deep. “I think I’m going to have trouble keeping quiet,” she confessed.

He smiled against her lips. “Just kiss me whenever you feel like screaming.”

“I kind of feel like screaming right now.”

“Well then, kiss me.”

Felicity complied immediately. She fused her mouth with his, rubbing her breasts against his chest as she arched up on her thighs in order to feel him move inside her again. Oliver helped with that motion for the next thrust, pressing his feet down on the floor to give himself leverage so he could push up into her.

They started a rhythmic dance together then, rocking into each other slowly and exactly, keeping their movements precise in order to keep them hushed. Their mouths remained clamped together, their tongues tangling and tasting, their breaths running hot against one another. The air turned fiery and hazy around them, emanating from their heated skin while they moved in time to an internal, cohesive drumming.

They clung so hard to each other, with minds and bodies and hearts merged, that Felicity couldn’t tell where she ended and he began. And right now, right this minute, that was all she wanted. She just wanted to be one with this man, as much physically as she was emotionally, and even though she wasn’t certain that was possible, she sure as hell wanted to give it a try.

So Felicity wrapped her arms tighter around his neck, fisting her hands into his hair, holding Oliver to her while she ground down against him and he pushed up inside her, over and over again. The leather chair groaned beneath the extra weight and accelerating motion of their joined bodies, but that sound couldn’t be helped. And honestly, Felicity didn’t really care right now who heard them. Not when Oliver shifted his hips just so, pressing hard into the tender flesh of her sex, lighting all her nerve endings on fire.

She whimpered in time with his thrusts, and Oliver’s hands drifted down the length of her back to reach up under her bunched skirt and grab hold of her ass. He held one bare cheek in each palm, his fingers digging into her skin, using that leverage to control their movements as he slid into her again and again. Felicity could feel the soft scrape of her thong panties pulling against his cock where he thrust inside her, and she knew that tiny barrier covering her sensitive nerve bud was the only reason she hadn’t finished already. But now that Oliver palmed her ass, and pulled her against him with even more defined strokes, Felicity knew the end was near.

Wrenching her lips from his, she panted against his mouth. “I’m – I’m going to come. Are you with me?”

“God, yes, I’m right here with you. I need to feel that, Felicity. Please let me feel that.”

“Um-hmm,” she groaned in agreement, her ears filled with the sounds of squeaking leather and rapid breaths as he continued driving his stiff erection so precisely inside her. “Y-you’ll come, too, Oliver?”

He growled, his fingers gripping into the flesh of her bottom. “I swear I will. Just let go, baby. Just let go.”

She nodded her forehead against his, over and over. “Kiss me. Please.”

Felicity came the second she felt his mouth on hers. She didn’t know if it was the sensation of his soft, swollen lips on her own, or the realization that her screams would be muffled against his skin, but she just let herself go. The orgasm hit her hard – so _goddamn_ hard – tightening the muscles across her entire body while she shouted against his mouth. Oliver kept his word, coming right at that same instant, his cock throbbing deep inside the walls of her sex.

He managed to keep his lips fused with hers when he cried out. Felicity held onto him even stronger, aware that neither one of them could maintain complete silence at the moment, and unable to bring herself to care about the level of sound emanating from their section of the plane. Oliver shifted up into her a few more times, emptying his thick liquid into her body while Felicity’s inner muscles clamped down around him. She relished the feel of his stuttered pulsations inside her, the feel of his body claiming hers in such a primal way.

“Fuck, that’s _so incredible_ ,” Oliver breathed when he finally managed to separate their mouths, the air coming in short bursts to his lungs. “You are amazing. Just so damn _heavenly_.”

Felicity ground down against him one more time, pulling another shiver from each of them. She sighed with her body’s final release of energy, and slumped down against him, just managing to keep her head up so she could see his eyes. Reaching her hands to his face, she brushed her fingers over the damp, hot skin at his temples. “Mmm. I’ll take heavenly anytime.”

Oliver banded his arms around her once again, while a slow, satiated smile pulled up the corners of his lips. “You are heavenly all the time.”

She grinned. “Thank you for this, Oliver. Thank you for indulging me. It was just what I needed.”

“You don’t ever have to say thank you for allowing me to be inside you.”

“But it feels like I should this time. I think I may have actually seduced you a bit.”

“Well…maybe a bit.”

“Hmm. I like the thought of that,” she admitted, curling her fingers up against the scruff on his jaw. “And it was so, so wonderful. Even though I’m afraid we weren’t all that quiet.”

“It was probably fine,” he assured with a shrug. “The hum of the engine most likely drowned out the sound of us.”

“And if it didn’t?”

“Well, if I’m being honest, I don’t really care. You wanted me and I wanted you, and that’s all the justification I need.”

Felicity remained perched on top of him while she giggled in response. That motion shifted her against him again, and Oliver sighed. “Actually, Felicity, you could just stay right here on top of me for the rest of the trip, if you want.”

“Of course I want that. Although I probably need to run to bathroom real quick, just to clean up a bit.”

He frowned. “Hmm. If you have to.”

She laughed again as she shifted her feet down against the floor and rose up off of him. Oliver’s wet cock landed back against his abs while Felicity straightened her legs and pushed her skirt down her thighs. “I’ll be right back,” she offered.

Oliver still didn’t look happy about her leaving, not even for a second, but he did nod as he reached for his zipper, attempting to fix his state of undress.

Felicity scurried to the back of the plane with a wide grin planted firmly against her lips. She spent only a few moments tidying herself up, and smoothing out her hair and clothes, before she reopened the door to walk back to him. The cabin was still darkened, with just the small strips of safety lights on the floor illuminating her path.

Oliver remained seated in his thick leather chair, and Felicity glanced to the other big seat beside him. She knew she should probably sit back down there, in her own space, and give Oliver some space of his own. After all, they’d spent an awful lot of time together in the past twenty-four hours, and they could both probably use time apart, even if it was just a few feet.

But Felicity didn’t want that. God help her, she just wanted to be with him. She wanted to stay with him for every damn second she possibly could.

“Hey,” she whispered when she came to stand beside his chair.

Oliver looked up to her, his eyes brightening. “Hey.”

“Did you really mean it when you said I could stay on top of you for the rest of the trip?”

He smiled. “I certainly did.”

Felicity returned his smile while she plopped down on him, sitting sideways on his lap again, with her face to the window. Oliver wrapped her immediately inside his solid embrace, his arms encircling her completely. Felicity’s body responded to that open invitation by snuggling closer and balling up against his chest. Her bare feet curled up beside his thighs as she coiled her legs, trying to burrow deeper into his warmth. She dug her fingers into his shirt, and nuzzled her forehead into his neck, and did her absolute best to merge her body with his.

Oliver attempted to adjust himself to better accommodate her, chuckling a bit under his breath with her ardent, fevered movements.

“I swear I’m not trying to seduce you again,” Felicity vowed while wriggling further into his lap. “I just like being really close to you.”

He ran one hand down her arm, easing his fingers lightly over her skin. “Well, I would definitely not protest if you did seduce me again.”

“Yeah? Does that mean you enjoyed our little dalliance on the plane?”

“I did; I loved it. It was a first for me, actually.”

With those words, Felicity’s head popped up off of Oliver’s shoulder, her eyes searching his in the dim light. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about having sex on a plane. This was my first time.”

A smile lit up her entire body. “Really? _Seriously_? Am I your _first_ plane-sex?”

“Yes,” he confirmed, his brow furrowing. “Why do you look so happy about it?”

“Because I love being your first in something, Oliver. Especially since it feels like you’re my first in _everything_. You’re my first sex on a counter, my first bondage experience, my first multiple orgasm, my first…whatever you want to call that joy that happened in your bed this morning, and also my first sex on a plane. So even though I realize it’s a silly thought, I still like knowing that I’m your first in _something_.”

Oliver watched her for a few seconds. Then he grabbed her face with one large hand, and captured her with his eyes. “Felicity, you _are_ my first. In every way that matters.”

Tears sprung to her eyes, and she sighed as she sank onto his chest and pressed her mouth to his. Oliver kissed her softly, and slowly, and tenderly, and when she finally managed to pull back, just a little, she murmured, “Love you.”

He smiled against her lips. “Love you.”

She returned his smile, because she couldn’t help it. Because she couldn’t stop smiling when she was with him. And because she didn’t want to.

Her hand fisted up tighter against his shirt, right over his heart. Then Felicity dropped her head back onto Oliver’s shoulder. She let herself sink into his body, into his warmth and strength and stability, and within seconds a yawn popped out of her mouth. “Mmm…sorry.”

“You’re so tired, baby,” he whispered into her hair. “I can feel it all over your body. Are you sure you wouldn’t be more comfortable in your own chair right now?”

Felicity shook her head. “No, that chair is too big and cold. And frankly, it’s just too far away from you.”

“Well then, do you want to take a nap here on me?”

Her brow rose as she glanced up to his eyes from her happy place on his shoulder. “Is that alright?”

Oliver tightened his arms around her. “Works out perfectly for me. As long as you’re comfortable.”

“Oh, Lord, I’m so comfortable,” she sighed, sinking further down on his chest and burrowing her face in his neck. Her thoughts thickened with fatigue, the exhaustion of the past days finally catching up with her. Then her mouth opened, although she wasn’t entirely sure what came out of it. “You have the best arms ever, Oliver. I mean, seriously, you grew them perfectly. I don’t know how you managed to do that. Maybe it was extra vitamins or lots of steak…I can’t know for sure. But it’s as if you knew I would need to be inside them some day.”

He chuckled, the sound moving deeply through his chest and beneath her fingers while she stretched them out over his heart. “I’m just happy I finally get to wrap them around you.”

“Mmm,” she hummed into his skin. “Arms good.”

Oliver ran one hand across her shoulder and up into her hair. “Yes, my little bird, arms are good. Now rest your eyes, please.”

“’Kay,” she agreed, already way ahead of him. The gentle stroke of his fingers against her scalp and the sweet darkness behind her eyelids lulled her into a happy trance, and she succumbed to sleep before she took another breath.

…

Felicity woke to the feeling of warmth for the second time in one day. Oliver shifted slightly beneath her, his breaths deep and even as they moved through his chest and against her body. She could feel his large hand on her arm, tracing up and down her skin.

“You waking up?” he whispered, his voice feather-light.

“Do I have to?” she mumbled in response, snuggling closer to his chest.

“Well, unfortunately, I think it’s for the best. We’re going to start descending soon.”

She exhaled against his shoulder. “How – how long was I out?”

“A while. Long enough for us to arrive nearly at our destination.”

Felicity blinked her eyes, trying to reorient herself to her surroundings as her mind pulled slowly from the fog of sleep. She glanced out of the window next to Oliver’s chair, focusing in on the glow she could see in the distance. “Hmm…lights,” she whispered. “Lots of lights.”

_Lots of lights. Like, crazy amounts of lights. Everywhere, wild, boisterous lights._

“Oh my God,” Felicity breathed, straightening upright on Oliver’s thighs while her eyes widened. “I know those lights. Those are Las Vegas lights.”

Oliver’s words from the night before popped into her mind: _If we’re going to spend the rest of our lives together, we should know each other’s families. So I’m just making sure that happens_.   He’d said those words to her while standing in his kitchen, fully prepared to have her sit through an entire surprise dinner with his family.

His hands moved to her hips just then, working to steady her, since Felicity had apparently begun to topple off his lap. She turned her gaze to his, trying to maintain an upright position as she looked into his eyes. _You brought me here to meet my mother, didn’t you? God, Oliver, did you already call her? Is she going to be waiting for us when the plane lands?_

Felicity whimpered.

Oliver shook his head. “I did not contact your mother.”

Her brow furrowed. “Did I just ask you that? Because I was thinking it, but I didn’t think I said it out loud.”

A soft smile curved his lips. “No, you didn’t say it out loud. I can just read your mind. And the answer is no, I did not contact your mother. I promised you this morning that I wouldn’t act like a scoundrel anymore, unless you desire it. So I’m not going to overstep my bounds, especially where your family is concerned.”

 _Even though you completely overstepped your bounds where your own family is concerned._ Felicity huffed out a breath. “Oliver…what is it with you wanting us to meet each other’s families right away?”

His hands tightened, pulling her a little closer. “Baby, we don’t _have_ to do that. We don’t have to meet with your mother at all while we’re here; I promise. I don’t want you to feel pressured into that, because pressuring you is not my intention. I just thought maybe it would be nice for you to see her. I remembered you telling me that it’s been almost a year since the last time, and I wanted you to have to opportunity to be with her, even if it’s just for a few hours.”

Oliver ran one hand up her arm and onto her face, his breathing steady beneath her body. “I’m just happy I get to be with you, Felicity. I brought you to Vegas so we could spend a fun, romantic weekend together, enjoying each other’s company. But if you want to – since we’re already here – you could choose to visit with your mom for a bit. And if you feel comfortable, you could bring me along to meet her. Only if you want to. I’ll leave it completely up to you.”

She stared into his eyes for the longest time. She just sat on his lap, and stared into him, and tried to wrap her thoughts around his. Felicity watched him as he stared back at her with rapt attention, his brilliant blue filled with calm and strength and adoration and love. And it amazed her, for the thousandth time, how simply Oliver saw all of this. It amazed her how his unwavering certainty lent such a deep, profound credence to this cocoon he’d wrapped them in.

“Thank you,” Felicity whispered, somewhat surprised by her utter lack of disgruntlement with him right now. “I don’t know if I want to see her on such short notice, but I do appreciate you bringing me here, and giving me the opportunity, just in case.”

He leaned forward, pressing his lips to her forehead. “Of course. I would do anything for you. You know that, right?”

Felicity nodded when Oliver drew back to look to her eyes. “I do know that.”

Smiling softly into her, he ran his hand back down her arm before he spoke again. “Unfortunately, as much as I love holding you in my lap, you’ll need to get back in your seat now for landing. For safety reasons.”

“I don’t know; I feel pretty safe here,” she grumbled, having no desire to step away from their perfect little cocoon. “But I know you’re right, and I don’t want to give Rick and Brett any other reasons to look at me funny, so I will comply with the safety rules.”

Oliver’s brow rose when she stood from his lap. “Why would they look at you funny?”

She straightened in front of him. “Because they probably heard what we did earlier.”

“You don’t have to worry about that, Felicity. Even if they did hear us, both pilots are company employees and they’ll be discreet.”

“Discretion is not what I’m worried about,” she noted while moving over to sit back in her own seat. “Dying of embarrassment is another story.”

Oliver smiled. “Don’t be embarrassed, please. These things happen.”

Her eyes widened. “Not to _me_ , they don’t. At least, not until the day I met _you_.”

“Hmm. That was a good day.”

Felicity shook her head at his satisfied grin while she buckled her seatbelt, and then turned her head to watch the lights out of her window grow brighter and brighter as they descended. The plane landed impeccably, and she barely felt the bounce of the wheels against the runway. But her hands still shook while she anticipated all that awaited her in Vegas.

Once Oliver unbuckled his seatbelt and stood, Felicity followed suit, slipping on her shoes and gathering her purse so she could stand beside him. She could hear movement from the front of the plane: the door opening, and the two pilots departing. She glanced back out of the window to see Rick and Brett step off the stairs onto the ground, where a large, sleek black car sat in waiting.

“Is that car for us?” she questioned when she turned back to Oliver.

“It is,” he said, pulling back on the blue curtain to clear a path for her.

Felicity hesitated. “You, um, you go first,” she insisted, her cheeks already flushing red.

Oliver chuckled. “Okay. But you honestly don’t have to be embarrassed. They may not have heard a thing.”

She smiled at the nice thought, but still tucked herself behind Oliver’s back when they walked down the steps. The moment they reached the ground, she kept her eyes down and her ears open as Captain Rick cleared his throat to speak. “Your luggage is already in the car, Mr. Queen, and the keys are in the ignition. We’ll be here to take you back on Sunday afternoon.”

“We’ll see you then,” Oliver replied.

Felicity heard the easy cordiality of the men’s words, and it all sounded civilized and appropriate, so she raised her eyes to smile at the distinguished Captain. Rick nodded his head to her, his light blue eyes showing no signs of anything untoward. Felicity breathed a little easier then…until she turned to smile at the co-pilot.

Brett’s pale skin was blotched red, his cheeks just as flaming as Felicity’s. He shifted his feet, and twisted his fingers at his sides, and looked generally miserable.

_Yup, he knows. Probably heard the whole thing. Thank God he didn’t come running when he heard me scream. Or did he?_

The young man stiffened his spine, obviously trying to appear professional even while averting his eyes from hers. “I hope you both enjoyed your…f-flight,” he stammered.

Felicity’s heart leapt into her throat, making it difficult to respond.

“We did,” Oliver piped in to cover her silence, wrapping a protective arm around her shoulder as he began guiding her toward the waiting car. “Thank you for the smooth trip.”

“Anytime, Mr. and Mrs. Queen,” Rick replied, his voice even and authoritative.

Oliver’s muscles stiffened with the Captain’s words, and Felicity felt too flustered by the circumstances to correct the pilot on his error. She was definitely _not_ Mrs. Queen, but the fact that Captain Rick mistook her for Oliver’s wife somehow made the circumstances of the flight seem more justifiable. So Felicity didn’t bother to turn around and protest the title, especially not while Oliver continued to pull her away from the plane and toward the safety of the car.

The moment Oliver opened the passenger door for her, allowing her to sink inside the safety of the vehicle, Felicity could breathe. Although she wasn’t sure her cheeks would ever resume a normal temperature. She sighed when Oliver sat into the driver’s seat, happy to have him beside her again.

He turned on the engine and put the car in drive, and then immediately reached for her hand. Oliver pulled her fingers up to his lips, and kissed every tip, and then smiled at her, his teeth a flash of white in the dark car. Felicity didn’t really have anything to say for herself at this point in time, so she just kept quiet, and held hard to Oliver’s hand, and watched the city grow brighter as they made their way into the heart of Vegas.

Oliver eventually pulled up in front of a gorgeous casino hotel that twinkled marvelously with reflective glass and vivid lights. He stopped the car in front of the valet station, and a smartly dressed bellhop opened Felicity’s door, smiling broadly at her before grabbing their luggage. Oliver came around the car to stand at her side, and then eased his hand to her low back, and walked her into the hotel behind the young man.

The sound of slot machines and cheering and general raucousness accosted her ears the moment they stepped into the lobby, and Felicity blinked with the flashing lights and flashier clothes shining in her eyes. She glanced around her, hoping to catch sight of an Elvis, while they moved across the red carpet and over to the line of elevators. The moment one shiny gold door opened and closed around the three of them, the noises dimmed.

“Your suite is all ready, Mr. Queen,” the bellhop informed while they traveled up the elevator. “The bed is turned down, and there is champagne waiting for you.”

“Thank you,” Oliver replied, his voice deep beside Felicity’s ear as she leaned her body into his. She smiled with his warmth, feeling the excitement of the city fill her body. She may not have seen an Elvis yet, but there was still time. Time to be here with Oliver. Time to just _be_.

Once they stepped off the elevator, the young man brought them to their room, and opened the door. Felicity thanked him while stepping across the threshold into the massive suite. Her eyes widened at the size and scope of it – the large sitting area with two couches, and the adjacent dining area with table and chairs, and the separate bedroom in the distance.

Felicity stepped toward the bedroom the moment Oliver tipped the bellboy and closed the door behind him. “Well, this place is huge,” she marveled.

“You like it?”

Oliver’s voice came from close behind her when Felicity stopped inside the doorframe and kicked her shoes off to the side. Her toes squished into the plush cream carpet while her eyes drew to the king sized four-poster bed, nestled beside a massive window overlooking the city. “What’s not to like?”

“You want some champagne?” he asked, his body flushing up onto hers from behind.

Felicity leaned back against him, feeling his hard chest supporting her spine, and sighed. “No, thank you. Honestly, I just want to get out of these clothes and get in bed with you. I mean, to sleep. Just to sleep. Since we already did…other things…on the plane. Unless you want to do _more_ other things, in which case I might not be that tired. Although I feel like that nap was just a hint at a whole night of sleep, and even though I know we made up three hours when we flew out here, and the city is just waking up, that bed looks _so_ damn good.”

He chuckled, his chest rumbling against her back, and then pressed a kiss into her hair. “Sleep sounds good to me, too. We should both get some rest; we have a big day tomorrow.”

“A big day?” she echoed.

Oliver’s muscles stiffened against her. “Well, yeah. I mean…we’re in Vegas. I figured we should do a lot of things. Maybe do some sightseeing. And go shopping. And we should definitely eat, because there are about a thousand restaurants here. Not that we’re going to hit them all in one weekend, of course. And we could also maybe some spend time at the casino, hitting the black jack table. We could do anything we want to do. The sky’s the limit, really.”

Felicity’s brow furrowed while she turned around to face him, wondering if her babbling had actually become contagious. She looked up into Oliver’s brilliant eyes the moment she could, and watched him focus on hers. “That all sounds wonderful. As long as we’re together.”

He exhaled, a slow smile curving his lips. “We will definitely be together,” he vowed, bending down to ease his mouth onto hers for a soft, easy kiss.

“Hmm,” she murmured against his lips. “Will you hold onto that thought until we get into bed? I would like to get changed real quick.”

Oliver pulled back, although his smile remained. “Of course. I’ll grab your suitcase.”

“Thanks.”

He stepped back into the main room, and brought their luggage to the bedroom, as Felicity set her purse onto the dresser. Then she dug into her bag for her toiletries and a nightie, and darted into the bathroom to get ready for bed. By the time she reemerged, Oliver stood in the bedroom wearing nothing but a pair of boxers.

Her breath caught when she saw him, and Oliver’s jaw dropped when he saw her. “Dear God, Felicity, is that the same little slip you wore the first night we were together?”

She glanced down at the green satin chemise she’d thrown on in the bathroom. “Yeah, I guess it is,” she realized, smiling with the memory. “That was the first night you made love to me on the kitchen counter.”

His brow rose. “Do you really think what we did that night was make love?”

Felicity fastened her eyes to his. “I do. It all feels like making love. It always has.”

Oliver stared at her for a long minute, and then huffed out a breath. “Damn, I just love you so much.”

She smiled. “I love you, too.”

Stepping over to her, Oliver pressed a quick kiss on her forehead before heading to the bathroom. “I’ll be right back out and then we’ll go to bed. Sound good?”

“Sounds good,” she replied, holding his gaze until he closed the door.

The moment he left her sight, Felicity took a deep breath in and exhaled, letting her shoulders sink. She stepped over to the lamp on the bedside table and switched it off, settling the bedroom into near darkness, except for the illumination of the city sparkling through the huge window. Felicity walked toward the glass, pulled by the shiny energy of all the twinkling lights. She stood at the window for several minutes, just staring out at the vibrant world around her, and for a moment she felt stunned.

She couldn’t really believe she was here, in Las Vegas, with a man she didn’t even know three weeks ago. A man who brought her home to meet his entire family yesterday. A man who wanted to meet her mother now.

 _If we’re going to spend the rest of our lives together, we should know each other’s families. So I’m just making sure that happens_.

Oliver’s words rolled around in her brain again, and Felicity knew they made sense. Because she didn’t doubt that she would spend the rest of her life with Oliver. And even though he insisted on the plane that they didn’t have to see Donna Smoak at all while they were here, Felicity acknowledged the fact that this would be the perfect opportunity to see her mother again, and to have Oliver meet her. After all, he didn’t want to waste any more time. And honestly, Felicity didn’t want to waste time, either.

She smiled at the city lights for one more second before stepping away from the window and crossing the room back to the dresser. She reached into her purse and pulled out her phone. Then she dialed her mother’s number, and put the phone to her ear, and waited.

“Felicity, sweetie, is that you?”

“Hey, Mom.”

“My goodness, this is unexpected! How are you, darling?”

“Good. I’m – I’m doing really well. How are you?”

“Oh, you know me, dressing fancy and singing Elvis in the City of Lights.”

Felicity paced against the lush cream carpet. “Yeah, about that…I’m kind of here, too.”

“What?”

“I’m here, in Vegas. With my new boyfriend.”

The phone fell silent for a moment, and Felicity could hear Donna’s breathing accelerate before she spoke. “Well…do I get to see you? And meet this new man of yours?”

“Yes. Definitely. I mean, if you have the time. We’re only going to be here for a couple of nights, and I know it’s short notice, and I should have called sooner, but Oliver wanted this weekend to be a surprise, and you know how I always used to love surprises when I was a kid. Like the Twinkies. Remember the Twinkies, Mom? Oliver bought some for me yesterday, and he’s really wonderful. Honestly, he’s just the best thing that’s ever happened to me and…”

“Honey?” Donna interrupted.

Felicity took a deep breath in and released it. “Yeah?”

“You sound really…happy. I can’t wait to see you both.”

“O-okay. When?”

“How about you come to the lounge before my shift starts? If you got here around 10 a.m., we could do brunch.”

“That sounds great. I’ll see you tomorrow. I mean, _we’ll_ see you.”

“Wonderful, honey. See you both then.”

Felicity nodded, and nearly hit the off button, but then she stopped. “Mom?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Felicity.”

A smile lit her face. “Alright, well, see you in the morning.”

“In the morning. Bye, sweetie.”

“Bye, Mom.”

Felicity held tight to the phone for another minute before resting it back inside her purse. Then she walked over to the bed, and slipped beneath the covers, and rested her cheek against the soft, cool pillow. She tried to settle down into the mattress, but her body didn’t feel quite right being here alone. So when the door to the bathroom opened again, she sighed.

“How does the bed feel?” Oliver whispered when he shut off the bathroom light and stepped toward her.

“It’s terrible.”

“ _Terrible_?”

“Yup. Terrible. I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s soft and plush and delightfully delightful. Except that it’s not warm like you, and it doesn’t have amazing arms like you, and it doesn’t smell like you at all.”

Oliver laughed softly while he pulled back the covers. “I think I can fix all that.”

“Hmm…please do.”

The mattress indented with the weight of his body, pulling Felicity toward him even before he reached out to encase her in his arms. She melted onto his defined chest, her muscles easing instantly into his warmth. “God, you feel perfect, Oliver.”

“So do you,” he breathed, pressing a kiss into her hair while he tucked her farther into his embrace. “So incredibly perfect.”

She smiled against his skin, easing her lips to his neck and pressing a kiss just below his ear. Felicity inhaled deeply, filling her lungs with his scent, and then collapsed into him while she exhaled. “Thank you, Oliver.”

“For what?”

“For all of this…for everything.”

“You’re welcome. Thank you for being with me.”

Her heart swelled a bit more in her chest, and Felicity could only imagine how large it had grown by now. “You know, I may have made a phone call while you were in the bathroom.”

His shoulders tensed. “Who did you call?”

“My mom. We’re meeting her for brunch tomorrow at 10 a.m.”

He didn’t say anything for a long minute, and Felicity shifted closer to him.

“Is that okay, Oliver?”

“Yeah…yeah. It’s better than okay. Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. I want you to meet each other.”

“Good. I want that too. Although now I’m a little nervous.”

“Really? There’s no reason to be nervous. My mother is going to love you wildly.”

“You think?”

“I _know_. It’ll be love at first sight.”

“So she’ll fall in love with me faster than you did, then?”

Felicity shook her head. “I don’t think it’ll be faster than _I_ fell in love with you.”

“Does that mean you fell in love with me at first sight?”

“Well, you are very loveable, Oliver Queen. I believe I’ve told you that before.”

He banded his arms a little tighter around her. “You have. And I don’t know that I believed you the first time you said it, but I do now.”

She smiled into his skin, and snuggled herself closer. “I’m just glad you know now.”

“I do. I know. And I know that I’m going to love spending the rest of my life waking up with you in my arms every day.”

Felicity heard those words clearly, and she meant to stiffen up in response to them. She meant to react brazenly to his assumption. But Oliver’s body was just so warm, and his arms were just so strong, and his voice was just so deep and perfect, that she couldn’t bring herself to have a physical reaction. “ _Every_ day, Oliver?”

“Yes. I want you with me every day, and every night, from here on out. I think I’ve made that fact abundantly clear. Haven’t I?”

Felicity considered those words for a moment before shrugging her shoulders. “Yeah, actually. You have.”

“Good,” he said. “Now let’s go to sleep, so we can start our lives waking up together.”

She giggled. “Okay.”

Burrowing further into his chest, Felicity splayed her fingers out over Oliver’s heart, and sighed into his body. Then she closed her eyes with a smile, and allowed herself to rest.

...

A/N: Well hello, and congratulations on making it all the way to the end of the chapter! I hope you enjoyed this; I would love to hear what you think. And come say hi on Tumblr anytime – I’m TinaDay3W there, too. Just one more big chapter to go in this story! :)Tina

Up Next…Chapter 17: The Number Game


	17. The Number Game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Sweethearts! Well, here it is - the last ridiculously long chapter of this story. Hopefully you've come here for sap-n-smut, because that's what this is. Actually, I should issue a friendly warning that this is probably the smuttiest smut I have ever smutted. And I truly hope you'll enjoy it :)

A smile. That’s what Felicity felt on her lips the moment she woke. A _smile_.

She knew she’d gone to sleep with a smile on her lips, but she didn’t know she could smile _during_ her sleep. Apparently, she could. And Felicity was still smiling now, right into the side of Oliver’s neck, where she’d once again buried her face.

“Are you getting tired of me burrowing into you yet?” she wondered aloud, keeping her voice soft in case he was still asleep. Although the burgeoning erection pressing into her thigh implied otherwise.

“I’ll never get tired of that,” he insisted, the clarity in his voice suggesting he’d actually been awake for a while.

Felicity traced her hand over his chest. “You sure?”

“Pretty damn sure.”

Oliver moved his hips closer to hers, pushing his thickening length harder into her skin.

“Mmm, that feels good,” Felicity said, her cheeks flushing the moment Oliver chuckled. “And I don’t just mean _that_ , although that does feel good. I mean it feels good that you like having me here, and that I like being here, and just…everything.”

His hand wandered up her arm and over her neck. “I know what you meant,” he assured, reaching for her jaw to tilt her face up to his. He pressed a soft kiss to her lips, and hummed his contentment, and Felicity forgot to protest the fact that they hadn’t brushed their teeth yet.

When he eased back to rest his head on the pillow they currently shared, Felicity smiled into his eyes. “Do you realize we’ve known each other for three weeks today, Oliver?”

“I think that’s tomorrow, isn’t it?”

“Well, I met you on a Sunday, and tomorrow is Sunday, but technically today is the last day of the first three weeks, and tomorrow starts the fourth week.”

“Okay,” he agreed with a laugh. “We’ve known each other three weeks today.”

“Sorry. I’m a bit of a number geek.”

“You like numbers?”

“Yeah, numbers are fun.”

A grin settled over his lips, soft and full and easy, just before he sunk his mouth down onto hers again. Felicity edged closer to him, flattening her fingers on his chest while Oliver’s hand wandered up her thigh and across her hip. The motion drew her silky nightie to her waist, leaving her legs bare. His heavy cock twitched against her, his thin boxers the only barrier to her skin, and Felicity moaned into his mouth while pressing her thigh up against that hard ridge.

Oliver’s fingers tightened on her hipbone, his kiss deepening for a long minute before he eventually groaned and pulled away. Resting his head back on the pillow, Oliver pressed his eyes shut tight. “Damn it,” he grumbled.

Her brow rose. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything is wonderful, except…I just really want you. Right now.”

Felicity moved her leg again, urging it more firmly onto his now-full erection, eliciting a moan from deep in his throat. “I have to say, I’m not seeing a problem with that at all.”

Oliver refocused on her, his hand seeking out her hair, his fingers threading through the mussed curls. “The problem is that we slept in, and now we have to get up and get ready, or we won’t make it on time to meet your mother.”

“Eh,” Felicity sighed with a shrug of her shoulders. “My mother thinks time is relative and flowing. She’ll be okay if we’re late.”

“Still…we shouldn’t be late. I want to make a good first impression.”

Felicity ran her hand across his chest. “Does that mean I can’t entice you to join me in the shower this morning?”

“ _Damn it_. I am in physical pain right now, with that suggestion.”

A smile curved her lips as she shifted her body closer to his. “I’m sorry. But you don’t have to be in pain, because I can take care of you really quickly, with my hands or my mouth or anything you like.” Felicity smoothed her fingers down Oliver’s chest and across his abs before sliding her palm over his clothed erection, causing him to suck in a sharp breath.

“You are obviously trying to torture me,” he growled, curling his fist into her hair.

Felicity wrapped her fingers around his thick shaft, squeezing onto him while pushing her thigh more firmly between his legs. Oliver cursed a stream of filthy words, tightening his grip inside her gold curls for one more moment. Then he released his hold on her, flipped over onto his back, and jumped up off of the mattress, all in one swift, continuous motion.

“Wow. That was kind of acrobatic,” Felicity mused, too amazed by his rapid escape maneuvers to be upset by the fact that he wasn’t laying beside her anymore.

Oliver chuckled when he straightened to his full height several feet away from the bed. “Go get in the shower, temptress,” he complained, pointing toward the bathroom.

Felicity planted an overwrought frown on her lips as she drew herself up out of the sheets and did her best saunter over to where he stood. Reaching for his hips the moment she could, Felicity grasped the sides of his abs in her hands and fit her petite body up against his broad one. Then she looked up to his eyes and sighed while his rigid length pressed eagerly into her belly. “But, Oliver…it’s been almost _twelve whole hours_ since I had you inside me.”

“Sweet hell, Felicity. Did you just wake up ravenous this morning?”

“I did. I am absolutely ravenous for you.”

Oliver grabbed her face in both hands and planted a hard, smooth kiss on her mouth. “I’m ravenous, too,” he growled against her lips. “But I’m going to make myself wait to have you again until we are done visiting with your mother.” He lifted his head, fixing her with a piercing gaze. “When we get back to this hotel room later, though…all bets are off.”

Felicity giggled. “Nice gambling reference.”

“Well, you know, we are in Vegas.”

“Oh, _alright_ ,” she huffed. “If you can wait until later, then I can, too. I suppose. So…I guess I’m just going to hop in the shower now. _Alone_ , apparently.”

Oliver shook his head, and pressed one more kiss to her lips, before releasing her. “I swear to you, we will get into a shower together at some point. But for now, I am going to wait out here until you’re done. For safety’s sake.”

“Grr,” Felicity griped, just before she arched up on her tiptoes and nipped against his jaw stubble. Then she grinned into his bright eyes and skipped away, through the doorway into the bathroom, hearing him chuckle while she shut the door. Felicity kept smiling inside the large room as she busied herself with her morning routine. The shower stall was gigantic, with a massive showerhead that drenched her in soft warmth. She stared at the dark blue tiles on the wall while she washed her hair, wishing that Oliver’s hard body was pushing her up against them right now, and that his wet fingers were slipping all over her skin.

“Good golly, I am ravenous for Oliver this morning,” she mused aloud, grasping her hair conditioner bottle from the shelf. Being ravenous for him wasn’t a hard concept to understand, especially since she’d felt this way yesterday morning, too. “This must be how I’ll feel every day I wake up beside him.” Which, Felicity realized, would be every day from here on out.

_I’m going to love spending the rest of my life waking up with you in my arms every day._

That’s what Oliver told her last night, and the declaration probably should have freaked her out. But it didn’t then, and it still didn’t now. Because she felt perfectly happy waking up ravenous for him.

Felicity continued imagining Oliver in the shower with her while she rinsed her hair, and while she ran shower gel across her tingling skin, and while she exited the blue-tiled haven in order to dry off. After blow-drying her hair, she considered wrapping the towel around her body before stepping out of the bathroom. But then she changed her mind, and hung the towel up quite neatly on the rack, and stepped out into the bedroom completely naked.

Oliver stood by the dresser, still wearing only his boxers, and rifling through his suitcase for clothing. All of that movement ceased the moment Felicity walked toward him. Oliver stopped everything he did, and froze in place, and just stared at her.

She forced herself to keep moving toward him, even if the look of pure desire in his eyes made her footsteps wobbly. “The shower is all ready for you,” she said as she approached, her voice breathier than she meant it to be. “I made sure that it’s extra hot and steamy in there.”

His jaw clamped shut, the muscle beneath his scruff twitching ferociously. Oliver clenched his fist around the shirt and pants he held, his biceps bulging while his eyes trailed down her naked body, slowly and purposefully, before dragging back up to her face. Then he sucked in a deep breath and pinned her beneath a wicked, penetrating stare. “Do you have any idea of what I’m going to do to you when we get back to this hotel room, Felicity?”

The air caught in her lungs. “I – I have some I idea. At least, I thought I did. I mean, before just now.”

Oliver took two steps forward, closing the space between them entirely, his eyes never leaving hers. “You may be surprised,” he promised, the words sounding deliciously ominous to her ears. Then Oliver reached down, and pinched her bare ass cheek between his fingertips.

“Ow!” she squealed, even though it didn’t really hurt.

He simply smiled at her, and growled a bit, and then disappeared into the bathroom with his clothes in hand.

Felicity broke into nervous giggles the moment he’d gone, the giddiness level in her body blown sky high. The sinful promise of the surprises Oliver had in store for her when they returned to this room set her mind reeling, and she had to orient herself to time and place just to function. “Get dressed, Felicity,” she encouraged, knowing that was the proper thing to do.

Her fingers trembled as she opened her suitcase, but then she caught sight of the dress she’d packed the day before, and a serene smile spread across her lips. “Oh, _yes_ ,” she whispered, grabbing the red material and drawing it out of the bag. Holding the sleeveless dress by the shoulders, Felicity let it drape down in front of her eyes.   “I can’t _wait_ until he sees me in this.”

She shimmied into a black lace bra and underwear before splitting the red fabric completely apart with the zipper running the full front of it. Once she’d pushed her arms through the dress, wrapping the tight material around her body and zipping it all the way back up, Felicity slid her feet into the red heels Oliver had asked her to pack. Then she moved to the full-length mirror on the wall and glanced at her reflection.

Her flushed cheeks were framed with the loose gold curls of her hair, her bright eyes highlighted by the smile she couldn’t seem to lose. The dress hugged every curve of her body, and even if she’d never considered herself a sexy woman, Felicity had to admit she looked the part of a temptress right now. Which felt like a bit of fun. Oh, hell, it felt like _a_ _lot_ of fun.

The door to the bathroom opened again and Felicity pivoted on her heels to watch Oliver emerge, fully clothed and perfectly preened. He looked like his dastardly handsome self, as he always did, only with a bit of a nervous tick to his clenched jaw. Felicity tried not to grin too wildly when she saw him, because she’d seen him just a few minutes ago and knew she shouldn’t feel like he’d been away for a year.

“You all ready?” she questioned, attracting his attention.

The moment Oliver looked at her, his eyes bulged nearly out of their sockets. His feet stopped moving, and his mouth fell open. Then he shook his head, over and over again. “Good God, Felicity, what is that you’re wearing?”

“Oh, it’s just a little something I had in my closet. I’ve never actually worn it before; I guess because I never had a reason. Did you notice that the front zipper goes _all the way_ down?”

Felicity brought her hand up to her neckline, and tugged against the little gold zipper pull, urging it down just an inch while she stared into Oliver’s eyes.

He sucked in a harsh breath before he managed to speak. “Damn it, woman, what are you trying to do to me? I’m meeting your _mother_ in a few minutes. And now I’m going to have to sit calmly beside you while you’re wearing _that_? And…” His eyes drifted down her body, all the way to her feet. “Fuck me. You’ve got the red heels on.”

“Well, you did ask me to bring them. And they do match the dress.”

Oliver’s hands flew to his face, fingers pressing his eyes shut as he groaned.

Felicity wanted to revel in this feeling of elation, and celebrate the success of having this marvelously powerful and sexy man thoroughly and indecently desire her, but then she watched him for a moment and sighed. She stepped toward him, stopping a few inches away and placing her hands on his forearms to pull his fingers from his face. “Hey. Are you doing okay?”

He blew out a shaky breath before refocusing on her eyes. “I’m just so… _nervous_. God, I’m so fucking nervous to meet your mother.” Oliver stared into Felicity for a few seconds, and then shook his head. “Shit. Is this how you felt two nights ago when you found out my entire family had come to dinner to meet you?”

She pressed her lips together, her brow quirking as she looked up at him.

His shoulders fell. “I’m sorry, again, about surprising you with all of that. If I’d had any clue that this is how nerve-wracking it feels, I would have…well, I can’t say that I would have done anything differently. But I am sorry it was difficult for you.”

Felicity huffed out a laugh, finding it hard to be mad at him about that anymore. “You’re going to be fine today,” she assured, grabbing both of his hands in hers. “Just be yourself. My mother will appreciate that.”

“Hmm. At least I know I’ve got a solid in with her.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

“Well, I just remember you telling me on our first date that she would love to hear me say, ‘I think it’s unconstitutional to not like Elvis,’ so I can use that if I get into a tight spot in conversation. Although I’ll try to hold onto that little zinger for as long as I can. Hopefully, I won’t have to use it at all.”

Felicity squeezed onto his hands. “Baby, everything is going to be fine. Now come on, we don’t want to be late. Because we’re going to make a great first impression.” She gave him a reassuring smile while turning toward the door, keeping the fingers of one hand wound in his.

Oliver followed faithfully along behind her, even though Felicity wasn’t sure if he was actually breathing. But then she heard him inhale sharply just before he said, “You do realize how goddamn edible your ass looks in that dress, right?”

“Edible?” Felicity echoed while guiding him out of the door and into the empty hallway.

He stepped beside her once they reached the elevator doors, and leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Yes, edible. And I do mean that quite literally.”

She choked a bit on her own tongue, her palm dampening against his. But Oliver only held her hand more firmly, keeping her close by his side while they entered the elevator, rode down to the first floor, and stepped out into the bright, bold Vegas sunshine. Felicity took a huge gulp of fresh air as soon as they arrived outside.

“Do you want me to have the valet pull the car around?” Oliver questioned.

“No, it’s…do you mind if we walk? I’ve always enjoyed walking here. There’s just so much to see.”

“Yeah, sure,” he said, still clinging to her like a lifeline.

“The casino Mom works in is just a couple of blocks from here,” Felicity explained once they began moving down the sidewalk together.

Oliver nodded briefly, his fingers shifting against hers as he glanced around them to all the other people wandering the Vegas strip.

Felicity could feel the tension emanating from his body, and she didn’t want him to feel anxious, so she started talking. “The lounge she works in is actually a karaoke bar. Her shift doesn’t start for a few hours, but she likes to eat there beforehand. The chef’s name is Philippe, which I always thought was funny, because the chef at Blue is Phil. Phil and Philippe. No relation, though. Of course. Because _first_ names. Anyway, Philippe makes the best breakfast, and hopefully he’ll make it for us today, because I’m totally starving. Are you starving, too?”

“Yeah…a little. I guess.”

That dry response wasn’t what Felicity had hoped for. The fact that Oliver was nervous started to make her nervous, so she gripped harder to his hand as they walked. Knowing that Donna Smoak was just a few feet away from them now churned up a tiny tornado in Felicity’s stomach, because her mother always made her feel just a bit like a child, no matter how old she got or how much she learned. Felicity knew that was fairly normal for parent-child relationships, but it didn’t make it any less daunting. Especially when she was about to introduce her mother to the man she’d come to love so completely in such a short amount of time.

When they arrived at the door to the casino Donna worked in, Felicity’s feet drew to a stop against the sidewalk. “Um, Oliver, before we go in, I should probably tell you that my mother is a little…different.”

He stilled beside her. “Different how?”

“Well, for starters, she’s probably going to be dressed rather scantily.”

“Really? From the way you described her to me before, I would have thought she’d be more of a flower child.”

“Oh yeah, she is, in her heart. But on the outside…well, let’s just say she was the only Girl Scout Mom in our troop who didn’t button her uniform shirt all the way to the top.”

Oliver chuckled. “I think it’ll be fine, Felicity.”

“Are you sure? Because I thought you were nervous about all this.”

“I am nervous. But I’m with you, so I’ll be okay. That much I know for certain.”

Felicity smiled with his reassurance, and with the look of pure adoration in his eyes.

“Alright then, let’s do this,” she encouraged, holding tight to Oliver’s hand while she guided them both through the casino doors, and down the red carpeted hallway, and over to the gaudily decorated karaoke lounge beside the slot machine floor. People milled about here and there, but seeing as it was still morning, the lounge was mostly deserted and not nearly as sparkly as usual. Except for the glittery blond woman standing near the entrance.

Donna Smoak began jumping up and down and squealing the moment Felicity and Oliver stepped inside the doorway. “ _My_ _baby girl!_ ” she yelled, bouncing wildly with arms flung wide.

Felicity smiled at the sight, both with relief that her mother’s blue sequined dress did actually cover her boobs entirely, and also with excitement that she could get one of these ferocious hugs again after so long without them. Stepping up to her mom, Felicity grabbed hold of her and squeezed, while Donna continued screeching in her ear. “I’m so glad you’re here! So glad, so glad, so glad!”

“I’m glad too, Mom. I really am.”

“Oh, let me look at you,” Donna fussed when she pulled back, grasping Felicity by the shoulders and glancing down to her outfit. “Well, well…va-va-voom, honey! You look _spectacular_ in this dress.” Still holding tight to Felicity’s shoulders, Donna turned her eyes to Oliver’s. “Doesn’t she look spectacular in this dress? She looks _delicious_ , right?”

Oliver coughed a bit with the words, and Felicity witnessed him blush for the first time ever. “Yeah, um…yes. She’s beautiful. She’s always beautiful.”

“You know that’s right,” Donna confirmed, sighing as she turned back to her daughter and finally released her grip. “So, introduce me to your new man, please.”

Felicity couldn’t help the grin spreading her lips while she stepped back to her man’s side. “Mom, this is Oliver. Oliver, Donna Smoak.”

Donna shifted her hips and smiled. “Hello, Oliver, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“You too, Mrs. Smoak,” he said, reaching out his hand to shake hers.

“Oh, call me Donna, please,” she offered before releasing her grip on his fingers and pinning him with her heavily lined doe eyes. “Now tell me something about yourself, Oliver. I want to hear something amazing! Something _magical_ and _fantastic_. Something that is just going to knock my socks off!”

Oliver’s brow rose, and his lips parted, and he made a little strangled noise in the back of his throat. “I think not liking Elvis is unconstitutional,” he blurted.

Donna stilled, and stared at him for a moment, and then smiled before turning back to Felicity. “Hmm…beauty _and_ brains on this one. Well done. Where on earth did you find him?”

Felicity shrugged. “He tripped over a squirrel and fell into my lap.”

Donna didn’t bat an eyelash. “So it was just meant to be, then?”

“Yup. Meant to be.”

“Well, good,” Donna said, nodding at her daughter before turning her attention back to him. “Welcome to the family, Oliver.”

His eyes widened for a moment, a smile trying to form on his pressed lips. “Thank you.”

“Of course. Now come over here, both of you! I had Philippe fix us a meal to die for!”

Felicity took hold of Oliver’s hand again while Donna led them to a deep booth in the corner of the lounge. The curved seats were purple velvet, the round table filled with plates of French toast and bacon and crepes and omelets and fruit. Felicity glanced to Oliver to see his brow rise with the presentation of their meal. “Wow, this is…amazing,” he said.

Donna grinned. “Philippe makes the best brunch around. And believe me, I have definitely been around!”

“ _Mom_ ,” Felicity chastised as they all sat.

“Oh, I’m only joking, sweetie. Just trying to lighten the mood a bit. Honestly, I’ve seen nut crackers with more relaxed jaws than Oliver’s.”

He huffed out a laugh. “Sorry, Donna. I’ll admit that I was a bit nervous to meet you.”

“Well, that’s okay, honey. Meeting your girlfriend’s mother can be a daunting experience, but I assure you I don’t bite. And you flew my sweetie all the way here from Starling to spend some time with me, so I’m already madly in love with you.”

Felicity giggled while leaning into Oliver’s side. “Told you she’d love you,” she whispered beside his ear, although it wasn’t much of a whisper at all.

He pressed a kiss to her temple and smiled. “You did.”

Donna’s gaze shifted between the two of them for a moment before her hands flourished over the table. “Dig in, please!”

They all began piling food onto their plates, and humming in contentment as they ate. Felicity loved watching Oliver ravenously shovel his food in, because his jaw was no longer tight, and his entire body had settled in easily beside hers. That realization brought a smile to her lips, and she didn’t resist her impulse to touch his thigh beneath the table.

“So, do you still enjoy living above the casino here, Mom?” Felicity asked in between mouthfuls. She squeezed onto Oliver’s knee as she spoke, and he leaned closer to her, draping his arm around her shoulders.

“Oh, I do. I have all of my art supplies upstairs, and I still love doing my painting and sculpture when I’m not working here, or out seeing the sights. It’s a good life.”

“Good,” Felicity said, easing her hand back up Oliver’s thigh. “I’m glad.”

“And how is your work going, honey? The last time we spoke on the phone, I was a little worried about you.”

Felicity’s arm stilled on his leg. Oliver shifted closer to her, smoothing his fingers across her bare upper arm, his touch strong and certain. Felicity relaxed into his side. “Things are better now, Mom. Much better.”

Donna smiled between bites of crepe. “Wonderful. You know I want you to be happy.”

“I do know.”

“And what about you, Oliver?” Donna questioned. “What do you do for a living?”

Felicity giddily observed the look on her mother’s face when Oliver began talking, and when Donna realized he was Oliver _Queen_. Not that her mother cared about the wealth aspect, but it was amusing to watch her absorb the information. Felicity ran her fingers more decidedly across Oliver’s thigh, and his hand began drifting up and down the length of her back – from her shoulders to the low slope of her spine – while he chatted easily and effortlessly with the woman across the table.

The lounge began to fill with patrons all around them, but Felicity barely noticed the change in scenery as she sat with her two favorite people in the world and watched them interact. She did, however, notice the shrill voice that began mutilating Elvis songs from the karaoke stage in the center of the room several minutes later.

“Oh dear God, I hope the King isn’t listening to this right now,” Donna huffed in response to the attempted singing. Then she sprung up from the table and held her hands out to Oliver and Felicity. “Come on, you two, there’s only one way to cope with this. We have to dance along…it’s what Elvis would want!”

Felicity glanced over to Oliver in time to see his brow rise.

“Don’t you dance, Oliver?” Donna questioned in their silence.

“He dances on the inside,” Felicity defended, knowing he’d told her at Blue that he didn’t dance, and not wanting him to feel pressured. Oliver gave her an appreciative smile, and Felicity pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before leaping up to join her mother.

Felicity shimmied as best she could, given the tightness of her dress and the painful butchering of _Jailhouse Rock_ by a tourist in black pleather who’d had way too much to drink before noon. But she still had a great time, because her mother danced beside her with joy in her eyes, and because Oliver watched with ease in his muscles and a sweet smile plastered to his lips. A sweet smile that turned deeper and more desirous the longer Felicity wriggled her hips.

When the Elvis karaoke finally ceased, and they headed back to their booth, Oliver’s gaze fastened solely onto Felicity. He watched her with focused intent, studying each step she took, and by the time she arrived at the table, his eyes were darker and his lips held a seductive curve. With Oliver looking at her like this, Felicity pretty much forgot her mother was still in the room. So instead of playing the part of a dutiful daughter, Felicity walked straight into Oliver’s arms, plopped down on his lap, pushed her fingers into his hair, and planted a wild kiss on his lips.

Oliver wrapped her up immediately, his hands flattening against her spine, pulling her closer. He groaned into her mouth while kissing her hungrily in return, his tongue wrapping around hers the moment she ventured to taste him. Felicity lost herself in their cocoon, and would have happily stayed here forever, if it weren’t for the ringing noise coming from his pants.

“Mmm…is that…your cell phone?”

“Yeah,” he breathed, still gripping her close. “Sorry. I should have turned it off.”

Felicity forced herself to pull back a bit, although Oliver kept one hand firm against the back of her dress. “You should probably see who it is.”

He frowned before reaching into his pocket and then glancing down at the lit screen. “Hmm, it’s Thea.” Oliver looked back to Felicity’s eyes. “Do you mind if I take this?”

“No, of course not.”

He finally released his hold on her. “I should step outside; it’s a bit noisy in here.”

Felicity climbed off of his lap and straightened. Oliver stood and took her hand, squeezing her fingers while he looked over to Donna. “Please excuse me for a moment.”

“Certainly, Oliver,” Donna sang, reminding Felicity once again that her mother was present and accounted for at their little table.

Oliver smiled and pressed a quick kiss to Felicity’s lips before stepping away, holding onto her hand for as long as he could until their fingertips fell apart. Felicity watched Oliver until he disappeared from the room. And then shook her head with the realization that she missed him already.

“So, who’s Thea?” Donna questioned when he’d gone.

Felicity turned to meet her mother’s gaze, and then eased back into the booth beside her, taking a deep breath in and trying not to feel anxious about the pubic display of affection she’d just engaged in. “Oh, that’s his little sister.”

Donna’s eyes settled decisively onto hers. “You know, I realize we don’t talk very often, honey, but I’m surprised I’ve never heard you mention Oliver before. Especially with as close as you two obviously are. When did you meet him?”

She stopped breathing for a moment. Felicity ceased moving at all, and just stared at her mother, petrified to say the words. “Um…three weeks ago?”

“Three weeks?” Donna repeated, her brow rising. She settled her hands onto the tabletop, her lips pursing for a moment. A second later she smiled, and shrugged. “I guess it’s been a pretty fantastic three weeks, then.”

Felicity’s mouth dropped open with Donna’s nonchalance. “Doesn’t it bother you that you welcomed a man into our family who I’ve basically just met?”

“No, it doesn’t. Because the way you feel toward each other is very apparent. Honestly, I’m relieved you finally found someone you’re passionate about. You know, that’s what brought your father and I together, back in the day. And let me tell you, that man could go _all_ _night_.”

“Ew, Mom. Ew.” Felicity cringed with her mother’s words, not just for the unsightly image it brought to her mind, but also because she knew how ravenous she’d felt for Oliver this morning, and on the plane last night, and yesterday morning in his bed, and pretty much every second since she’d laid eyes on him. Which made her more nervous than she wanted to admit.

“But…that faded, right?” Felicity whispered, clasping her hands together on the tabletop as the hold she’d had on her nerves since the flight yesterday began unraveling. Because even though she’d decided that the kind of love she and Oliver shared was rich and full and right and had so much potential for the future, Felicity knew the future was still so uncertain. Because the future was always uncertain, and yet Oliver still wanted to just barrel into that future with her – with both of them together – consequences be damned. And right now, sitting here with her mother, the practical side of Felicity began to panic at that thought.

Her fingers worked hard against each other while she looked to her mom's eyes. “The passion between you and Dad faded over time, didn’t it? So I guess that’s inevitable?”

Donna leaned toward her. “Just because the passion faded between us doesn’t mean it will fade for you and Oliver. And even if all passion must settle down to some degree as time goes on, I think it can settle into something even better, and deeper.”

“Yeah…yeah, I suppose.”

Donna reached out, taking hold of Felicity’s hands, stopping their anxious movements. “Honey, you’re thinking about this too hard right now. You know that, don’t you? You’ve always done this, ever since college. You think and think and think, and you forget to _feel_.”

Felicity’s shoulders sagged. “But…I’m doing better now; I really am. I already feel so much with Oliver, and I’m trying to let myself feel everything I can with him.”

“I can see that, Felicity. When you look at him, you light up like a Christmas tree.”

“Um, don’t you mean I light up like a menorah? You know, because we’re Jewish?”

Her mother chuckled, but Felicity’s stomach churned anew, her mind sparking to life with all the concerns simmering just below the surface.

“Oh _damn_ , Mom, Oliver doesn’t even know I’m Jewish.”

“Sweetie, you have plenty of time to talk about things like that.”

Felicity grimaced, her gaze falling to their joined fingers. “No, you don’t understand. Everything’s happening so fast between us. He gave me the key to his apartment yesterday, and he also made sure I have my own parking space in his building. And then last night he told me we’d be waking up together every morning from here on out, and I didn’t argue. I mean, we’ve basically decided to move in together, when we’ve only known each other for a handful of days, and a week ago he told me that I would look beautiful pregnant – _pregnant –_ and then he asked me how many kids I wanted and I said two and he said that was a nice number and we’d only known each other for two _weeks_ at that point and there we were, already discussing having a family, because Oliver doesn’t want to waste any more time without each other, and honestly I don’t either, but what if we’re wrong, what if we’re _both_ wrong, and…”

“ _Felicity_.”

Her ramble ceased with her mother’s firm voice, and Felicity looked back to her face.

Donna took a deep breath in, straightening her spine. “I want you to listen to me right now. Please. Because you aren’t doing yourself any favors by thinking all of this to death. Just _enjoy_ it, Felicity. Enjoy that passion between you and Oliver. Try not to think about every little moment the future might hold. Try to just be present, here and now, and appreciate all the beauty life has to offer.”

A laugh bubbled up from Felicity’s chest. _Appreciation_. She’d given a lecture on that to her patients at Blue just three weeks ago. Because it’s what she’d tried to find, up on the mountain. It’s what she _did_ find, for that brief moment in time. And it’s what Oliver helped her bring back home, and what he reminded her of, every second they were together.

“God, that’s what I want to do, Mom. I want to appreciate this time we have with each other, and not overthink the future. But I just have so many questions about everything, and I wish I had even _one_ answer.”

Donna gave her a gentle smile. “Honey, how do you feel about Oliver?”

Felicity’s heart squeezed inside her ribcage. “Oh, sweet Lord, I love him. I love him so much, it borders on ridiculous.”

“And how do you feel when you’re with him?”

“When I’m with him? I feel…I feel like I’ve found peace. I feel like I’m home. And I feel happy. So incredibly happy.”

“Well, I may not be a genius, but that sounds an awful lot like an answer to me.”

Tears lit the corners of Donna’s eyes, reflecting the ones in her own, and Felicity couldn’t help but smile. “Thank you.”

Donna reached out to Felicity’s face, to run a hand down her cheek. “Of course, sweetheart. I’m always here. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Felicity leaned over to wrap her mother in a huge hug, holding tight for a long moment before Oliver walked back into the lounge. His gaze drew to hers the moment he stepped inside, and a smile lit his face. Donna stroked Felicity’s hair, and pressed a kiss to her cheek, before pulling back. Then they both refocused on Oliver once he sat down beside Felicity again.

“Everything okay with Thea?” she questioned, reaching out to take his hand.

Oliver entwined their fingers together and Felicity felt her entire body relax with the sensation. “Yeah, Thea’s good. She just wanted to chat before she heads to Paris tomorrow.”

“But she’s coming back soon, right? She’s just going there to pack up her things?”

“Yes. She needs to settle her affairs at the QC Paris branch before coming home.”

“You know,” Donna interrupted, drawing both Oliver’s and Felicity’s eyes to hers. “I think you two probably have a lot to talk about, and I actually have to get ready for work now, so I’m going to say goodbye for the time being.”

Donna stood from the table, and they both followed suit. “It’s been a pleasure to meet you, Oliver,” she offered, throwing her arms around his shoulders for a quick hug. “I hope to see a lot more of you in the future.”

“I hope you will, too,” he replied when she pulled back. “Thank you so much for the meal today, and for the welcome into the family.”

“Happy to give it,” she said with a broad grin before turning to Felicity and gripping onto her hand. “Love you, sweetheart. Have a safe trip home.”

“Thanks, Mom. For everything.”

Donna nodded, and squeezed Felicity’s fingers one more time, before Oliver slipped his arm around Felicity’s waist and led her from the lounge. Felicity reached her hand up onto the back of his shirt, and twisted her fingers up into the material, holding fiercely onto to him while they moved down the hallway and back out to the sidewalk.

“That was…wonderful,” Felicity acknowledged the moment the sun shone down on her skin.   “Thank you for bringing me here.”

He pressed a kiss into her hair. “You’re welcome. Thanks for letting me meet Donna. I really enjoyed that.”

“I’m glad. She adores you. Of course. Because you’re adorable.”

Oliver chuckled. “What would you like to do now? We can head straight back to the hotel, or we can wander around a bit and do some sightseeing. We can do whatever you want.”

“Hmm…why don’t we wander slowly back to the hotel, and stop wherever we like along the way?”

“Sounds perfect,” he said, wrapping his arm further around her waist and curling his fingers onto her hip. He pulled her against him, so every step they took fell in sync. Felicity just smiled in response, and held tighter to the back of his shirt.

They spent the rest of the afternoon drifting slowly down the sidewalk, admiring the gaudy and sparkling displays of dancing fountains and Egyptian mummies and pirate ships, sampling morsels of food from different vendors, and even stopping to play a few hands of blackjack in one of the multitudinous casinos. Oliver hovered close to her the entire time, his hand on her arm or at her back or on her hip, his lips pressing against her shoulder or her hair or her mouth at random intervals throughout the day.   He talked with her, and laughed with her, and stared at her with such loving affection in his brilliant blue eyes, always remaining close and solid and strong beside her.

Felicity reminded herself of her mother’s words as they wandered. She reminded herself to just appreciate this moment in time, and to let herself feel all the wondrous emotions Oliver allowed her. Honestly, it wasn’t difficult. Because her entire body felt at peace beside him, and her whole heart filled with love, and she knew she belonged here.

Oliver spent the entire day being a gentleman with her, but Felicity noticed that his hand explored her dress further and more intently, the closer they got to their hotel. As the sun started to sink behind the huge, flashy buildings on the Vegas strip, Oliver’s fingers sought out the curved neckline beneath Felicity’s hair, running over that smooth slope again and again before dragging down the back of the soft red material. He didn’t stop his exploration until he reached the natural indentation at the base of her spine, his fingers fisting up just above the slope of her ass. Felicity felt Oliver’s body tense beside her, and she knew he would have reached down and grabbed hold of her ass cheeks, if not for the hundreds of people wandering along the sidewalk beside them. Which somehow made her both relieved and disgruntled.

When the main entrance to their hotel finally came into view, Oliver leaned over to whisper in her ear. “You know this dress has been driving me crazy all day long, don’t you?”

She looked up to his eyes with a smile. “Has it?”

“It has. It’s so fucking gorgeous, and I can’t wait to see it crumpled up on the floor.”

Felicity managed to hold his determined gaze as they walked to the front door, even when her breath caught with the wicked curve of his lips. She remained glued to Oliver’s side while he guided her into the hotel lobby, urging her swiftly past the raucous casino floor and the multiple shops, toward the waiting elevators. Felicity trotted happily along beside him, right up until her eyes caught on something shimmery and soft and splendid.

“Felicity?” Oliver questioned when she stopped cold in her tracks. “What is it?”

“Oh…sorry,” she breathed, staring through the window of one of the hotel’s clothing stores. “I’ve just never seen a dress quite this stunning.”

Taking a moment to admire the empire-waist gown on display, Felicity’s eyes feasted on all the colors inside the intricately detailed pattern. Every shade of the rainbow wove through the fabric of the dress, a harmonious artwork meant as a feast for the eyes. The sparkling gold inlay of thread hemming the edges made it even brighter and more beautiful, and she worked hard to tell herself she didn’t require something this extravagant.

“Nope, don’t need it,” Felicity whispered, shaking her head.

Reaching for her hand, Oliver wound their fingers together and pressed a kiss to her hair. “You want it, it’s yours.”

“What? No, it’s…” she began protesting as he pulled her into the store. “The dress doesn’t even have a price tag, Oliver. That’s never a good sign.”

“I don’t care what it costs. If you want it, it’s yours.”

“But I don’t need you to buy me things.”

He stopped moving in the middle of the clothing racks. Then he reached for her hips, and pulled her up against him, and looked into her eyes. “I know you don’t _need_ me to buy you things. But you can _let_ me buy you things. After all, you’ve let me buy you underwear before.”

“Yes, but only because you’d torn off my other underwear.”

“Well then, the minute we get upstairs, I’ll tear this red dress off of you, too. Which will justify the purchasing of a new dress.”

“You don’t need to tear this dress! If you want it off of me, you can just use the zipper!”

Oliver chuckled, his fingers clenching around her hipbones. “Okay, I promise I will use the zipper on this dress, if you agree to let me buy you the new dress.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You know, that is pretty damn close to blackmail, Mister.”

“Hmm, I suppose it is,” he agreed, his eyes twinkling as he attempted a look of contrition. “I’m sorry about that. I know I’m not supposed to act like a scoundrel again until you tell me you desire it.”

The gently prodding reminder of Oliver’s controlling side – along with the assumption that she would want Scoundrel Oliver back at some point – did funny things to Felicity’s innards, and she had to force herself to shake her head. “It’s just not necessary to buy me the dress. I don’t need it.”

“I know you don’t _need_ it, but you want it. And I’d like this weekend to be about us doing the things we _want_ to do. So let me buy you the dress, please. I want you to have it.”

Felicity stared up into him for a long minute before finally letting herself relax. “Okay, then. Thank you for this, Oliver. I really do love the dress.”

He grinned with her acquiescence, and pressed a quick kiss to her lips, before pulling her to the front counter. A short time later, they reemerged from the store together, with Felicity’s fingers curled around the handle of a shopping bag. “This dress and I are going to be best friends,” she announced with a giggle.

Gathering her free hand in his, Oliver moved them both down the hall. “But I’m your friend too, right?”

“Of course you are. You’re my friend and my lover and my…my everything,” Felicity admitted, her cheeks flushing while she looked up to his eyes. “God, that sounded really cheesy, didn’t it?”

He chuckled when he brought them to a stop in front of the row of elevators. “I’m okay with cheesy,” he said, leaning down to speak more quietly into her ear while several other people joined them by the doors. “What I’m _not_ okay with is the fact that you still have clothes on. Because frankly, I’m really pissed off at this dress you’re wearing now.”

“Why on earth are you pissed off at my dress?”

His hand fisted up again in the small of her back. “Because of how it squeezes onto your ass like it does. Not that I can blame it,” he explained, shifting away from her just enough to pin her with a heated gaze.

_Do you have any idea of what I’m going to do to you when we get back to this hotel room, Felicity?_

The question he’d asked her this morning filled his eyes now, and Felicity’s breath caught as she wondered what the answer would be.

When the shiny gold doors opened before them, they stepped inside and moved to the rear of elevator, making room for the dozen other people crowding in with them. They stood side by side with their backs to the wall, looking innocently up at the number above the elevator door as it began to ascend. Felicity pressed the side of her body against Oliver’s, and wrapped her arm around his waist, wanting him close even in this tiny space occupied by all these other people. A moment later, she felt his hand wander down her spine and onto her ass, grabbing one cheek firmly against his palm and curving his fingers into her flesh through the red material.

A strangled groan sprung up in Felicity’s throat and she swallowed hard to keep from making obscene noises in the crowded metal box. The elevator doors opened and shut on various floors, with people stepping out at intervals, while Oliver’s hand continuously and mercilessly caressed her ass. When they finally arrived at their floor, only two other people remained on the elevator. Once the doors opened, and the other travelers stepped out, Oliver leaned over to press his lips to Felicity’s ear once again. She thought he was going to whisper something to her, but instead he just bit down on her earlobe, pulling it into his mouth for a second before running his tongue along the edge.

Her nipples tightened painfully with the sensation, and Felicity nearly stumbled in her heels when Oliver shifted his hand to the small of her back to guide her out of the elevator and down the hallway. She white-knuckled the handle of her shopping bag as Oliver used the key card to gain entry into their hotel room, yet she instantly released her fierce grip when he pulled her inside the suite and shut the door by pressing her up against it. The bag dropped abruptly to the ground the moment he fastened her spine to the wood and sunk his mouth onto hers.

Felicity’s fingers moved straight to his shirt, fisting into the crisp material and yanking on the buttons as Oliver’s tongue wrapped around hers. His fingers found her hips, pulling her body up hard onto his before roaming around to grab hold of her ass again. They moaned into each other simultaneously when he palmed her firm cheeks with both hands, and Felicity finally managed to get one of his buttons undone while pushing her breasts further into his solid chest.

Then Oliver’s cell phone rang.

He ignored it completely, and kept pulling her closer, and kissing her harder, his masterful tongue weakening her knees. The ringing eventually stopped, only to start up again a few seconds later, and the incessant noise finally broke through the haze in Felicity’s brain. She wrenched her lips from his with a pained whimper. “Just…just see who it is, baby.”

Oliver growled against her mouth, his hands kneading the flesh of her ass for another moment before he cursed and straightened. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the phone and stared down at the screen. “Goddamn it, Thea,” he grumbled just before hitting the talk button and pressing the phone to his ear. “What the hell do you want now?”

Felicity cringed with his ferocious greeting, shifting her spine against the hard door. Oliver’s free hand tightened against her waist while Thea’s voice shrieked at him across the phone line. Felicity couldn’t help giggling at the other woman’s obviously scolding tone.

“I’m sorry,” Oliver said, looking into Felicity’s eyes even as he spoke to his sister. “I didn’t mean to snap; I’m just right in the middle of something incredibly important.”

Patting his hand where it lay against her, Felicity whispered, “It’s okay. Talk to your sister. I’ll wait for you in the bedroom.”

Oliver finally dropped his arm away from her body, allowing her to step past him. Then he pivoted toward her, dropping the phone down to press it flat against his shirt before fastening her with his eyes. “Don’t you dare take that dress off yet, Felicity. _I_ want to do it,” he insisted, staring the words into her before bringing the cell back up to his ear.

Felicity heard Thea yelp a few words through the receiver, and watched Oliver’s brow furrow as he barked out, “Well, if you don’t want to hear things like that, Thea, then stop calling me when I’m in Vegas with my girlfriend!”

Felicity laughed again while she walked across the main room of their suite and into the bedroom. Her first instinct when she hit the plush carpet was to kick off her heels, but then she remembered how much Oliver liked the shoes, so she kept them on instead. Stepping over to the huge, floor-to-ceiling window beside the bed, Felicity stood and looked out onto the bustling city. The sun was just beginning to set in the horizon, just beginning to turn a gorgeous molten orange with streaks of gold and red streaming out across the sky, and the multitudinous lights from the other hotels began to twinkle a bit brighter with the coming evening.

She inhaled deeply, and exhaled slowly, just watching the world move around her through the tall, clear panes of glass. Felicity’s mind drifted back to this morning, and to the moments she’d been able to spend with her mother. She felt so grateful to Oliver for bringing her all this way just to see her mom, to have a few moments together after so many months apart.

Felicity hadn’t realized how much she needed to speak to her mom. She hadn’t realized how much she needed to talk about her fears, and she hadn’t realized how much she needed to hear her mother’s advice. Donna had always encouraged her to follow her heart, just as she did today, and Felicity knew that being here with Oliver now definitely meant that she was allowing her heart to guide her. Because honestly, this entire day still felt like being inside the fantasy they’d shared up at Blue. And a little niggling voice in the back of Felicity’s mind told her that this fantasy would have to end at some point, and that reality would have to take over, because reality always took over eventually.

Felicity wanted to believe in the reality Oliver believed in – the one where the two of them could be together always, and face the world by each other’s sides, while still experiencing magic along the way. She wanted to believe that the passion between them would last, and that even if the ferocity of their attraction faded over time, the intimacy and peace they felt with each other would be enough to pull them through life together. Because as frightening as thoughts of the future could be, Felicity had no doubt that she wanted to spend that future with Oliver.

Shaking her head, she huffed out a laugh. _God, don’t worry so much about the future_ , she chastised herself. _It’s only been three weeks_. _Just appreciate the here and now._

Wrapping both arms around her waist, Felicity hugged herself while she stared out into the sunset. She told herself to breathe and to relax and to feel. But she didn’t accomplish any of that very well at all…until she heard him.

“Hey,” Oliver spoke from behind her, his approaching footsteps soft on the carpet. “You doing okay?”

The instant joy settling into her heart from just the sound of his voice brought a smile to her lips, and Felicity dropped her arms back to her sides. “I’m doing great, now that you’re here. Is everything still okay with Thea?”

“It’s all fine; she’s just particularly chatty today.” Oliver stopped walking when he arrived at Felicity’s back, his body warming hers even without touching her at all. “But I don’t really want to spend time talking about my sister right now, if that’s okay with you.”

Felicity turned around, pressing her spine up against the window as she looked up to his tempting eyes. “Then what would you like to do right now, Oliver?”

He smiled sinfully down at her, and Felicity shifted in her red heels. “Actually, I thought you might like to play a game with me.”

Her brow rose. “A game? What kind of game?”

“It’s something I thought up this morning, when you were in the shower. I thought we could call it The Number Game.”

“The Number Game?”

“Well, you did tell me that you’re a number geek,” he reminded her with a smile.

Felicity laughed. “I absolutely am. So, how do you play this game?”

“It's easy. You just need to pick a number for me.”

“Okay. Can it be any number in the entire world?”

The muscle in his jaw twitched. “Um, let’s go with any number between three and ten.”

“Hmm. Can I pick pi?”

“Pi?”

“You know, 3.1415926…I could go on.”

“You really are a number geek, aren’t you?”

“Yup.”

He reached to her face, sliding his fingers across her cheek. “And that is wonderful, of course, but choosing pi might make this game a little difficult to play. So I’ll need you to pick a whole number, please.”

“Okay, well, I’ll just round pi down to three, then.”

“Or you could round it up to four.”

“Do you want me to round it up to four?”

“I’m just saying you can pick a higher number, if you want to.”

She huffed out a laugh. “What number do you _want_ me to pick?”

“Oh, no, four is good. We can go with four.”

“Alright, four it is.”

Oliver watched her for another moment, with a playful smile curving his lips, before he straightened his body. Then his hand dropped from her face to her shoulder, his eyes following suit while his fingers eased across the neckline of her dress. Felicity swallowed hard with feel of his fingertips caressing her skin.

“Are you going to tell me the rules of the game, Oliver?”

His fingers sought out the zipper at the top of the red fabric, grasping hold of the little gold pull. Oliver tugged down smoothly, parting the dress slowly over her chest. “I’ll tell you the rules later. Right now, I have other things I want to do.”

Felicity’s breath caught while he dragged the gold pull down farther and farther, until he reached the lower hem. The zipper fell apart then, and the dress opened completely. The taut red material separated across the center of her body, although it still clung to her sides and her ass. Felicity bit her lip when the cool air hit her heated skin.

Oliver fit his hands into the opening of the dress just above her knees, and then drew his fingers up her body, tracing slowly over her thighs and her panties, across her belly and up over her bra. He continued drawing a path over her hot skin, up her chest and her neck, until his fingers worked into the hair at the base of her scalp. He fisted them up into the gold strands, holding her steady as he dropped his mouth to hover over hers.

“Is this where I was before we were so rudely interrupted by that damn phone?” Oliver questioned, his warm breath fanning over her lips.

Felicity’s eyelids fell shut. “I believe so. Yes. Mm-hmm.”

He smiled against her lips. “Actually, I don’t think that’s entirely accurate,” he said, his fingers uncurling from her hair in order to run across her shoulders, and down her arms, and over her hips, and onto her back. Then he reached down, palming both of her firm ass cheeks in his hands, and pulling her body into his. His cock was already growing hard, and Felicity sucked in a breath when the jutting length pressed low on her belly.

“ _This_ is where we were,” Oliver insisted with a squeeze of both his hands into her flesh.

She circled her arms around his neck. “You are absolutely right; this is where we were.”

Oliver’s lips drifted lightly over hers while he ran his fingers up and down the clothed seam of her bottom and groaned. “Fuck, I love your ass.”

Felicity giggled, because she’d lost count of how many times he’d told her that.

“I mean, it’s just one of the numerous parts of you that I love,” he added. “Honestly, I love every part of you. But, _damn_ …this is a magnificent ass.”

His hands tightened into her dress, cupping the flesh of her bottom for one more moment before dragging across her waist and back onto her belly. Oliver nipped at her mouth, pulling her lower lip into his teeth and then smoothing his tongue over her skin, all while his hands burrowed under the red fabric and onto her bared hips. His fingers hooked into the sides of her thong panties as his mouth curved into a smile. “May I tear these off?”

Felicity pushed her hands up into his hair. “Of course.”

He snapped the strings easily, and growled his approval of the completed task, when the torn underwear fell to the floor. Then Oliver eased his face back from hers, and waited until she met his intent, powerful gaze, before speaking again. “Will you do me a favor now, please?”

“What’s that?”

“Will you spread your legs for me?”

A little whimper left her throat. “You mean right here?”

“Yes. Right here.”

“Um…hmm…yeah,” she mumbled, having difficulty forming a proper sentence with him staring at her like this.

Felicity widened her stance, using the glass at her back to support her as she shifted her heels apart on the carpet. Oliver drew his hands back up her body while she moved, his fingers drifting higher until he could cup her breasts, one in each hand. His thumbs raked across her lace bra, enticing her nipples to peak up harder than they already were, and Felicity groaned.

He pressed his mouth to hers, edging his tongue between her lips, smoothing over the seam to roam inside her warmth. Felicity kissed him back, hard, fists gripping into his hair. Oliver’s fingers shifted over her breasts again, running firmly over the hardened buds while his mouth opened to hers.

She tightened her calf muscles, and pressed her ass back into the window, trying to support herself while he explored her with his fingers and his tongue. When he finally pulled his mouth from hers, Felicity took a shallow gasp in and looked up to meet his wicked gaze with her own. Oliver ran one hand up her neck, cupping her jaw to draw her face up to his. “I want you so damn much,” he said, his words coming out in rough pants as he dragged his other hand off of her breast and pushed it down her stomach and in between her parted thighs.

Felicity cried out when Oliver pressed his finger down through her soft folds and up into her sex, all in one smooth motion. “God, you’re so wet,” he breathed. “I love how wet you are for me.”

She whimpered, shifting her hips to rub herself against his hand. “I _need_ you, Oliver.”

“I know you do. I need you, too. But first I need to taste you.”

“Taste me?” she asked, barely getting the words out before he sunk down to the ground in front of her. Felicity’s hands left his hair to flatten against the glass at her back, attempting to give her a small means of support while Oliver settled onto his knees. He pulled his finger out of her sex, and sucked it into his mouth, licking her wetness off of his skin the moment before he pressed his face between her thighs.

Oliver’s tongue moved purposefully and deliciously up through her soft folds, and onto the little nerve bud at the top of her sex, as he grabbed her hips in both his hands and pushed her hard into the glass pane. Felicity bent her knees, somewhat involuntarily, when his chin parted her legs farther. The scrape of his jaw stubble against her soft inner flesh sent bolts of electricity coursing through her body and Felicity let her head drop back against the window.

“Damn, that’s just…damn. _Damn_ ,” she breathed, trying and failing to remember any other curse word to use. “Damn, damn, _damn_.”

He moaned into her skin, as if he’d never tasted anything better in his life than what he tasted right now, and the thought of that made her eyes roll back in her head. His tongue worked miracles on her skin, pressing up into the tight walls her sex and licking through her folds and running in circles against her peaked little nub. Felicity’s legs shook while she attempted to support herself in her heels without clamping her thighs around his face.

Oliver’s fingers held tighter to her hips when he felt her legs tremble, supporting her as best he could from this angle. Pulling one of her hands from the glass pane, Felicity pressed it back into his hair, twisting her fingers up against his scalp. He growled when she gripped onto him, his hot breath fanning over her sensitive skin, but Felicity couldn’t bring herself to release her fierce hold. She struggled to maintain her stance as Oliver began tonguing her with a more defined rhythm, working her tender nerve bundle over and over again with his skilled mouth.

She honestly tried to stay still and steady beneath his masterful ministrations, but eventually she just had to fuck his tongue. So Felicity shifted her legs, moving her hips up and down, running her still-clothed ass up against the glass window in order to feel some sense of control.   Even though she knew she had no control right now. Oliver simply owned her at this moment, and that foggy realization was more erotic than she wanted to admit.

“Oh, God, _oh_ ,” she moaned, pressing harder into his face while he licked and sucked and feasted on her. Every muscle in Felicity’s body tightened all at once, her thighs shaking with the effort of movement, just a second before the lightning waves crashed over her. She screamed when her orgasm hit, not even trying to censure the level of sound. Her fingers gripped hard to Oliver’s hair, her heart racing in her chest as she did her best to not collapse on top of him.

He didn’t move for the longest time. He just kept holding her hips steady with his hands while his mouth dwelled against her skin, running kisses over her inner thighs and low belly in between long, slow licks up her wet folds. Felicity shivered and shook and whimpered, with every nerve ending in her body lit on fire.

Time stopped while Oliver continued tasting her skin, and she practically forgot where she was until he raised himself up to stand in front of her again. The moment his body leaned in to hers, pushing her onto the glass at her back, Felicity draped her hands over his shoulders and looked up to his brilliant blue. “Sweet hell, Oliver, that was…incredible.”

He hummed his agreement just before pressing a kiss to her mouth, his tongue slipping past her lips to share the salty sweet taste of her sex. Felicity groaned into him, her arms snaking around his neck to pull him closer. Oliver kissed her long and deep and thorough, and when his lips finally eased away, he pressed another kiss to her cheek, and then another to the shell of her ear. “That was number one,” he whispered, just before straightening to meet her eyes.

Felicity gripped the back of his shirt. “Wh-what?”

“The Number Game. You picked four. That was one.”

“You – you mean _orgasms_?”

Oliver smiled down into her. “Yes, that’s exactly what I mean.”

“So The Number Game is about how many orgasms you plan to give me?”

He leaned over, smoothing his tongue across her lower lip. “It is.”

Her brow shot to her hairline. “Oh. My. God. What if I’d picked the number _ten_?”

Oliver chuckled. “Then it would have been a long evening, but I have complete faith that we would have succeeded. And honestly, I definitely won’t mind if you want to pick a bigger number now, after hearing what the game entails.”

“No, that’s…that’s okay. I don’t even know if I’m capable of four.”

He pinned her intent gaze with his own. “We’re capable of four, Felicity. Trust me.”

With that promise, Oliver stepped away from her. He stepped back just a foot, just enough to give him room to move while he began stripping off his clothes. Felicity stood frozen, her body supported only by the window at her back, her thighs still trembling from the first orgasm while her mind attempted to wrap itself around the thought of him giving her three _more_.

When Oliver’s shirt hit the floor, and his fingers popped open the button on his pants, Felicity felt her knees start to give and she shifted in her red heels.

“You okay, baby?” he asked, his eyes fastened to hers as he reached for his zipper.

“Um, yeah, I’m just…my legs are a little shaky. Or maybe a lot shaky.”

Oliver pushed his pants down his thighs, freeing his thick cock to the view of her widening eyes. “I promise I’ll help out with that in just a second,” he vowed before peeling away the last of his clothes and kicking them all into a pile beside the bed.

The next moment, he stood before her wearing nothing but a wicked grin. Although the gigantic fucking erection kind of felt like a third person in the room. Oliver closed the space between them instantly, stepping into her and reaching both his hands for her ass cheeks, pulling her entire body up against his chest. His hot, rigid length pressed into the soft curve of her stomach, and Felicity sucked in a sharp breath.

“I’m going to lift you up and pin you against this window now,” he informed her in a harsh rasp. “And you’re going to wrap your legs around me, and take me inside you, and then I’m going to fuck you right here, up against the glass.”

She had trouble responding to that with anything but a whimpered squeak.

Oliver’s gaze roamed over her face and he softened his voice. “Is that okay with you?”

Felicity nodded vehemently, her head bobbing up and down while she attempted to keep her eyes glued to his.

“Good,” he said, his hands drawing up from her ass, across the red fabric still clinging to her hips. Oliver eased away just enough to smooth his fingers onto the exposed skin of her belly, and then drag his hands slowly up the center of her body, all the way to her neck. Felicity groaned with the motion, and balled her fists at her sides, locking her knees to remain upright.

His fingers traced across her shoulders, edging beneath the red material. “I’m going to have to take this gorgeous dress off of you now, for two reasons. First, because I’m still pissed off at it. And second, because I want you naked for the rest of this. Is that okay, too?”

“Yes,” she said, finding it completely unnecessary, and yet totally sweet, that he asked.

Oliver’s hands eased across her skin, slipping the dress from her shoulders. Felicity dropped her arms to her sides, allowing the material to fall. Then she stood still as stone, just concentrating on the aching, loving look in his darkened blue eyes, while Oliver unclasped her bra and drew it down her arms, dropping it to the ground.

His actions left Felicity standing before him in nothing but her red high heels, and Oliver didn’t waste another second. He reached down, grabbed his two favorite handfuls of her ass, and lifted her up, all in one smooth motion. Felicity wrapped her legs around his hips, and Oliver entered her quickly and seamlessly, driving her bare back into the window as he sealed their bodies together.

His cock settled deep inside the walls of her sex and they both exhaled with the instant sensation of completion. Oliver’s fingers dug into the flesh of her ass while his mouth melded with hers, his tongue teasing over her lips before slipping smoothly inside. Felicity simply held on. She clung hard to him, banding her arms around his shoulders to fuse them both together.

The glass shook behind her when Oliver began moving his hips, driving his thick length up inside her again and again. Felicity felt her shoes slipping down her feet, and she curled her toes up, trying to hold them in place. But as he thrust harder into her, quaking her entire body against the trembling glass, the heels fell off and hit the floor, with one thud after the other.

Oliver’s entire body stilled with the sounds, his breath coming in sharp gasps to his lungs once he dragged his mouth off of hers. “Did your shoes just fall off, Felicity?”

She gulped in air, trying to breathe while looking into his hungered eyes. “Y-yes.”

“God, that’s fantastic.”

Her brow rose. “You’re happy my shoes fell off?”

“I am. Because I’ve wanted to fuck you right out of these red heels since the moment I saw you in them.”

“But that was – that was in my office on Monday.”

“Yes it was.”

A moan left her chest. “Did you want to fuck me in my office that day?”

Oliver shifted his hips, sliding his cock out and back into her tight sheath, while he held her in place against the window. “I did. I wanted to have my way with you right there in your chair. Or maybe up on your desk.”

Felicity tightened her legs around him. “Mmm. You did have your way with me on my desk when you came back Wednesday.”

He pressed into her, causing a shock of electricity to run down her spine as his piercing gaze held her eyes. “I did. But I won’t ever do that again. Not if you don’t want me to.”

Her fingers shifted higher, to twist into his hair. “But I _do_ want you to.”

Oliver stilled again, his brow furrowing. “Are you _sure_ you want that?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because that’s where you see your patients. And it’s where…” He didn’t finish the thought, and he didn’t have to, because Felicity understood.

“No, Oliver, I told you yesterday…being with you in my office was a _happy_ memory. And I want to have happy memories there again. I want to smile when I walk into that office, and keep smiling all day long, and not have to fake how I’m feeling. Because I honestly believe now that it’ll be better if my patients see how genuinely happy I am, so they’ll know it’s possible to have happiness in their lives, too.”

Oliver stared into her for a long moment, taking time to absorb her words. Then he exhaled and rested his forehead against hers. He held onto her tight, so tight that his arms trembled with the effort, before looking back to her eyes. Felicity could see him trying to compose himself. She could see the depth of emotion in his deep blue, and his struggle to focus.

After another few seconds, Oliver finally sucked in a deep breath, and edged his thick length harder up inside her wet sheath, pulling a deep moan from her throat. He blinked with the sound of her aching desire, and his eyes narrowed. “So…you definitely want me to fuck you in your office some more?”

Felicity whimpered. “God, _yes_ , I do.”

He slid out, and back in, again. “How often, baby? How often do you want me there?”

“Whenever you can be there.”

“Do you mean that? Because I could walk across the street for lunch every day.”

Her eyes widened. “ _Every_ day?”

“Every day you want. I can bring over your lunch, and I can fuck you on your desk.”

Felicity’s heart stuttered in her chest, the strength of his words empowering her. “But Oliver, what on earth will _you_ eat for lunch?”

All of Oliver’s muscles stiffened, his fingers digging into the flesh of her ass, while his voice deepened. “What are you saying, Felicity? Are you offering to be my lunch?”

She bit into her lip, and watched his eyes follow the movement hungrily. “I would love to be your lunch. And I would love for you to be my lunch, too.”

“Sweet hell, woman,” he breathed, arching out and back inside her. “The things you do to me are unreal.”

Oliver began pounding into her then. He gripped her ass in both hands, and pulled her up hard onto his body, and drove her repeatedly against the window. The glass at her back rattled while Felicity held on for dear life, digging her fingers into his scalp and pressing her face to his scratchy jaw. A sheen of sweat formed between them, sliding their hot flesh together, awakening every nerve ending in her body.

“I’m going to walk across the street for lunch every day,” he panted beside her ear while he fucked her hard and wild, “and I’m going to spread you out on your desk, and sink my mouth down between your legs, and feast on you.”

“Oh, yes. _Yes_ ,” she whimpered as he thrust up inside her, over and over, sending a thousand surges of electricity shooting through her skin.

“I’m going to make you come so hard, Felicity. I’m going to make you come so _fucking_ hard, right on my tongue, and then…”

“O-Oliver!” she yelled, her orgasm hitting her like a truck as he pounded her into the shaking glass, again and again. Felicity screamed and moaned and cursed, the sensations going on and on while she clung tight to his slick skin. Oliver’s stiff cock continued pumping deep inside her, pulling several more mewls and moans from her lips while the lasting shocks of her orgasm filtered out though her skin.

Felicity didn’t want him to stop moving. She wanted Oliver to fuck her for as long as it took for him to come with her. But then he slowed his movements, downshifting his actions into a steadier, more methodical thrusting, to ride the final crest of waves in her body with his still-ridiculously-hard shaft.

Her shoulders slumped down, and she allowed her forehead to press against his damp hair, when the last of her orgasm finally ran its blissful course. “God, you’re good,” she whispered beside his ear.

He chuckled. “That’s number two.”

“That’s number two,” Felicity confirmed. “And I don’t even care if any of the things you said to me about lunch in my office every day were true, because I just liked hearing about it.”

Oliver smiled into her neck before kissing her skin. “Well, I am very aware of the fact that my Felicity likes dirty talk. Although I’ll be more than happy to further discuss our lunch dates when we get back home.”

She hummed her consent into his cheek, loving the thought of future lunch dates, although not as much as his use of the word _home_. Pressing her lips to his jaw, Felicity ran her tongue over his stubble to taste the salt on his skin before nipping at him. Oliver groaned with the touch of her teeth, and pulled her more solidly onto his chest, still clutching her ass in both hands. She felt her bottom pull away from the window as he balanced her against him, and Felicity giggled with the thought that she’d most likely left a body-print on the glass.

“You know, Oliver, half of Las Vegas probably just saw my bare ass cheeks pressed up against that window.”

He growled. “Lucky bastards.”

Felicity giggled and Oliver shifted her closer. Then he began walking them to the bed, keeping her clamped onto him with both arms tight around her back, his biceps bulging with effort when he crawled them onto the mattress to lower her down in the center. Oliver’s hips shifted against hers as he sunk them both down on the soft comforter, but his heavy cock remained buried inside her.

Her body ached in all the right places and pulsated in all the best ways, and Felicity groaned when Oliver eased them fully down on the bed and she felt his long length edge deeper into the walls of her throbbing sex. “Sweet heaven, how is it that you haven’t come yet?” she questioned, looking up to his eyes. “I mean, I know you’re controlling yourself for my benefit right now, but I don’t know how you’re managing it. Do you have some sort of superhero power to maintain an erection?”

Oliver’s brow rose as he propped himself up on one elbow. “Superhero power?”

“Well, I’m just saying your ability is pretty incredible. I might have to start calling you The Pink Arrow.”

“ _The Pink Arrow_? Why in the hell would you call me that?”

“Because your skin is pink, and your erection kind of looks like an arrow, so…”

“No. Uh-uh. Nope. Definitely _not_ The Pink Arrow.”

Felicity grinned at him. “Then how about The Green Arrow? Green is your color, after all. And The Green Arrow sounds like a really cool superhero name.”

Oliver chuckled, which moved his cock deliciously inside her slick walls. “You know what? You can call me The Green Arrow if you want to. Although I don’t have a super power, unless you count the overwhelming desire to give you multiple orgasms, which is the only thing preventing me from coming inside you right this instant. Also, it really helps that we had sex twice yesterday, even though I still don’t know how much longer I can last at this point.”

“I want you to come with me,” Felicity insisted, reaching out to smooth her hands up and down his arms. “I don’t want to have three orgasms while you have none. Will you come with me this time? Please?”

He smiled down into her eyes. “If it will make you happy, then I’ll come when you do. Although I think you probably need to be on top for this one, so you can control it.”

“Okay,” she said, her heart skipping a beat with the thought of Oliver giving her control. Because she knew he was completely willing to do that now, and it amazed her to think of how far he’d come in such a short amount of time. How far they’d both come, together.

Oliver grabbed hold of her, flipping them over seamlessly, and before Felicity knew it, she lay on top of him. Slipping her knees down onto the comforter at either side of his waist, Felicity pushed up on her arms so she could see his face when she began moving. Oliver’s eyes narrowed the moment she raised her body up and then down, sliding him slowly out of, and back into, her warm sheath.

His hands moved to her hipbones, his fingers curling firmly into her flesh, but Oliver didn’t attempt to control her movements at all. He simply held onto her, maintaining the touch of his skin to hers, while Felicity directed the friction of their bodies. Her breasts shifted each time her ass landed against his thighs, and she watched Oliver’s gaze drift down to focus on the tightly peaked buds. He licked his lips, and she didn’t know whether that was purposeful or involuntary, but she bent forward anyway, easing her chest to his mouth.

Oliver arched his head off the bed the moment she came close enough, his mouth latching onto one breast, his tongue circling her nipple with steady determination. Felicity shuddered, her fingers digging into the bedding beside his shoulders while she ground herself down harder and faster. Oliver tightened the grip of his fingers on her hips while he feasted on her skin, but he still didn’t direct the now-stuttered movements of her body.

Felicity’s thighs trembled and tensed and she closed her eyes, reveling in the sensation of his rigid length moving so deeply inside her while his tongue worked magic on her aching breasts. Oliver shifted his attentions smoothly from one firm peak to the other, never losing the contact of his mouth on her skin, causing Felicity to mewl and purr and make other sounds that weren’t quite earthly.

Eventually Oliver stopped suckling her skin, and rested his head back on the mattress again, and stilled his entire body – except for his fingers, which moved slowly and gently across her waist while he continued allowing her to direct their lovemaking. Felicity cherished the bold, empowered sensation of being on top of him, even if alternate thoughts sprang devilishly into the back of her mind. She kept her eyes shut tight while she silently entertained those thoughts: wicked ideas of Oliver taking control of her, and dominating her, and bringing them both to completion with his deliciously skilled body and hands and mouth.

Felicity whimpered as she acknowledged the existence of her dark desires, and as she impaled herself onto Oliver’s ridiculously stiff cock over and over, feeling the swelling quakes of electricity form in the sensitive nerve endings surrounding her sex. She’d never experienced three orgasms in a row before, but she knew Oliver believed she could do it, so she wanted to believe it, too. She could already feel that energy in her body focusing again, even after the two hard-and-fast orgasms he’d given her up against the window. And although the energy building inside her now felt lower and deeper, it definitely grew with purpose and intention.

Smiling deliciously at the thought that she could actually have a third, Felicity opened her eyes. She needed to see Oliver, to see his look of desire reflecting back onto her. She needed to make sure that he was close to his own completion, and that he would finally come with her, when she let herself go again.

But the look Felicity found in Oliver’s eyes wasn’t lustful, or reckless, or wanton.

No, the look she found in him was soothing, and earnest, and loving.

She stopped moving. Felicity stilled her entire body on top of Oliver’s, and gazed down at him. The fading glow of sunset filtering through the window lit his face in multiple shades of gold, highlighting the warmth in his blue, and she sucked in a breath at the sight.

“Have you been watching me?” she asked, her heart squeezing with the thought.

Oliver gave her a soft smile. “Yes.”

“You like watching me?”

“I love watching you. I could watch you forever.”

His words were gentle, caressing her skin as surely as his hands. Felicity melted down onto him, sinking her chest against his to bring them closer. She reached for his face, her fingers running over his temples and across his jaw and onto his lips. She expected him to nip at her fingertips, as he often did when she touched his mouth, but Oliver just keep looking up at her, and smiling a secret smile.

Felicity exhaled, tracing her fingers back up his jawline. “You look like you’re deep in thought right now.”

He nodded. “I am. I mean, not _too_ deep, but I am thinking about something.”

“Care to share?”

“I was just…I was thinking about what you said to Dr. Lance…”

Her brow shot to her hairline. “Oh my God! _Please_ don’t tell me you’re thinking about Quentin Lance while we’re having _sex_!”

Oliver chuckled, his fingers tightening on her hips. “No, I’m not _actively_ thinking about Quentin Lance – you can trust me wholeheartedly on that. Although I’d like to point out that this isn’t much worse than you thinking about Star Wars during our first time together.”

Felicity considered that point for a moment, and then grinned. “Touché,” she said, slipping her fingers up his neck and into his hair. “So, what are you thinking about Dr. Lance?”

“I was just wondering…you didn’t really promise him our firstborn child when you went on vacation at Blue, did you?”

“What?”

“Well, you told me that you had to promise him all sorts of things in order to take your vacation there, and I just want to make sure you didn’t _really_ offer him our firstborn child. Because I want to keep our firstborn. And all the others, for that matter.”

Her forehead crinkled. _“All_ the others? I thought we talked about kids when we were in the underwear honor store; I thought we talked about having _two_.”

Oliver’s soft smile transformed into a blissfully self-satisfied grin as he continued looking up to her face. “Yeah, you’re right. We did talk about having two, didn’t we?”

Felicity’s eyes widened with his words. And her lips parted. But she fell mute. Because Oliver had been staring at her, and contemplating their future kids, in the middle of sex, and she didn’t know what to think about that. Especially with him still grinning up at her now as her mind struggled to come to terms with the point they’d reached in their relationship in mere days.

Happiness lit Oliver’s entire face, and Felicity could only sit and ogle him as a thousand thoughts fired instantly inside her brain. She didn’t know if she would have ever moved again, honestly, if he hadn’t moved her. But he did.

Oliver used his firm grip on her hips to shift her body up, lifting her off of him just a bit – just enough to run his cock out of, and then back up inside, her wet sex. That perfectly sinful gliding sensation took Felicity’s breath away, and reminded her that they were indeed in the middle of something other than spoken conversation. Oliver groaned when she settled all the way down onto him, and his fingers tightened onto her skin, but he didn’t attempt to control her movements again.

Felicity tried to refocus. She tried to remind her brain that her body was quite engaged at the moment, and that she had things to do. So she started to move again, riding herself up and down his solid erection. But even with as good as Oliver’s body felt beneath and inside her, Felicity couldn’t focus on anything but her drifting thoughts.

So she stilled again, settling down onto him and placing her hands to either side of his head. Then she took a deep breath in. “Oliver, I realize that now may not be the best time to have this discussion, but there’s something I need to tell you.”

“What is it?”

“It’s just…I’m Jewish.”

His brow rose. “Okay. Well, I’m…not.”

“And that’s totally fine. I’m just thinking we could put up a menorah _and_ a Christmas tree for the winter holidays.”

Oliver’s hands moved down, smoothing across her thighs. “Sounds good to me.”

“Also, I would like to teach the kids about both religions.”

He didn’t say anything for a minute, and then the corner of his mouth pulled up in a lopsided grin. “You mean _all_ the kids?”

She huffed out a laugh. “Yes, _all_ the kids.”

“Well, then…all of our kids are lucky that they’re going to have a mother as wonderful as you,” he said, reaching his arm up to run his fingers across her lips. His eyes glided over her face as he touched her, his voice softening when he spoke again. “I’m going to love spending the holidays with you, Felicity. I’m going to love spending every day with you. And I’m going to love it when you’re pregnant. I’m going to love raising a family together.”

Her heart may have stopped. Just a little. Because it banged ferociously in her chest when it restarted, and Felicity whimpered with the sensation.

“I’m…I’m going to love that, too, Oliver.”

A smile curved his lips then, just before he ran his hand into her hair, and tightened his fingers against her scalp, encouraging her to sink back down onto him. Oliver released his grip on her the moment their lips touched, allowing her freedom to pull back from him, should she desire it. But Felicity didn’t pull back. She didn’t turn away, or try to escape, at all. Because she didn’t want to. Because here, with him, was exactly where she wanted to be.

Oliver kissed her softly, gently, lovingly. It was a kiss of promise and fulfillment more than passion, but it was still passionate. And Felicity gave into it. She gave in to Oliver’s desires, and to her own, resting her arms over his shoulders and cradling his face in her hands.

She kissed him back with all she had to give, wrapping him up with her body and with her heart. Oliver’s hands drew to her back, flattening against her spine to pull her closer, as he matched the fevered movements of her tongue with his own. His arms encased her, but they still gave her freedom enough to move if she desired. So she did.

Felicity lifted her hips up, easing Oliver’s rigid erection from her body a moment before running herself back onto him. That movement sent instant waves of electricity racing through her skin, and she wrapped her tongue in his when she repeated the motion. She worked her hips up and down, over and over, while pressing her chest to his chest and her mouth to his mouth.

Oliver held himself still beneath her for the longest time, letting her ride him the way she desired, until Felicity found a smooth rhythm that brought her entire body to boiling and forced a moan from her throat. His responding groan, and the sudden shifting of his hips to meet hers thrust for thrust, made her arms shake with the effort of holding him to her. Oliver still let Felicity control their pace, but he worked with her now, pushing his stiff length deeper inside her body each time she ground down against him.

Her loose hair fell in waves beside Oliver’s face, but Felicity didn’t try to pull the curls back; she just held tighter to him as her hair veiled both of their faces in gold. They heated the air around them with their warm breaths, pressing lips and tongues together, moaning and whimpering into each other with every matching movement. His hands roamed freely over her skin, trailing down her spine and across her waist and up her sides, the sensation of his touch both soothing and seductive, all at once.

Felicity’s orgasm started slowly, deep in the center of her body, and her pulse stuttered in her veins with the aching, deliberate build. Her muscles tightened and wound, her fingers fisting into his hair as she drove down onto his throbbing shaft again and again, bringing that far-off sensation closer with each eager movement. When she felt it come close enough to touch, Felicity groaned into Oliver’s mouth. The sound of her impending release made his hands still on her back, and caused the muscles of his arms to bulge around her as he gripped into her skin.  

He came first. He came hard, dropping his head back onto the mattress with a roaring growl, his hips shifting up into her over and over, in stuttered, barely-kempt movements. His cock pulsed hot and heavy inside her walls, and Felicity clamped her inner muscles down around him, needing to feel that pulsation as Oliver emptied himself within her. The moment she tried to milk him with her inner walls, her own orgasm hit. It wasn’t the wildly fierce sensation she’d experienced earlier against the window – twice. This third orgasm was smooth and soft, like undulating waves washing through her body and over her skin, quiet and peaceful and satiating.

She let out only a little moan when she slumped down onto him, burying her face into his neck and breathing in deep to fill her lungs with his scent. Felicity could feel Oliver’s heart pounding in his chest, so rapid and strong that she could barely hear her own pulse even as it rushed through her ears. His hips shifted and jerked against her for another few moments, his arms banding tight around her back, and Felicity tried to keep pace with the motion of his body, to make sure he got the most from the one orgasm he’d actually allowed himself.

When Oliver’s arms finally loosened from around her, and his muscles sank into the bed, and his panting breaths began to slow, Felicity stretched her body out on top of his, and burrowed her forehead into his cheek. She allowed herself to relax completely into his warmth, and nearly fell unconscious in an instant. So Oliver’s voice scared her a bit when it rumbled out from beneath her.

“Felicity?”

“What? Yes? I’m sorry…what?”

“Was that…was that number three?”

She hummed into his skin. “Oh, _yes_. That was definitely number three.”

Oliver let his arms drop to the bed. “Wonderful,” he sighed. “I wasn’t exactly sure, because you didn’t make a lot of noise with that one. At least, not like you normally do when you come, which I’ve just grown really used to.”

A smile lit her lips, and Felicity straightened herself to sit up on him, so she could look into his eyes. “That’s because this one was softer, and deeper. But it was definitely still _amazing_ ,” she assured, drawing her hand down over his damp chest.

Oliver reached his hands to her legs, running them up her thighs. “Now we just have one more to go.”

Felicity laughed. She couldn’t help it; she just started giggling profusely. Because she honestly couldn’t fathom the thought of _another_ one. And she giggled even harder when Oliver frowned up at her.

“I don’t know what you find so funny about this,” he grumbled, his hands still moving over her skin.

“Nothing,” she assured, working to get the word out past her giggles. “I don’t find anything funny about this; I really don’t. I’m just a little punch drunk, I think, after the first three. And I believe I might need to take a short break before trying again.”

His frown melted slowly into a grin. “Okay. You can take a short break.”

Felicity lifted herself up off of him then, which made them both cringe with the feel of separation. She tipped over, landing on her side on the mattress, and Oliver rolled toward her immediately. He reached to her waist, pulling her close enough that she could still feel the warmth of his skin across the small space between them. “Can I close my eyes for just a minute?” she asked, her lids already drooping down.

Oliver chuckled softly. “Of course.”

“I’ll just close them for a mimut…a…a minute.”

“Yeah, baby. A minute,” he repeated, the heat of his body surrounding her in the softly lit room as his fingers drew across her hip and thigh and stomach, soft and gentle and so very, very soothing.

…

When Felicity reopened her eyelids, the first thing she noticed was how dark the room had gotten. No more golden glow of sunset surrounded her and Oliver on the bed; now only the dim illumination of distant Vegas lights seeped through their tall bedroom window. Her eyes sought out Oliver’s face, which still rested just inches from hers against the mattress.

“Oh, _damn it_. I fell asleep again, didn’t I?”

He smiled softly, his fingers tracing a path up and down her arm. “Maybe a little.”

“For how long?”

“Not long. Less than an hour.”

“Dear Lord,” she huffed, “you probably think I’m narcoleptic at this point.”

Oliver laughed. “I don’t think you’re narcoleptic.”

“Well, good. Because I swear I’m not. It’s just that you’re so warm and so comforting and so loving and I’m just…I’m at peace when I’m with you.”

“Good,” he whispered, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her lips. “That’s what I want for you.”

Felicity reached out to him, drawing her fingers across his chest. “I just wish…I wish you felt that peace, too.”

“I do. I’m completely, utterly at peace when I’m with you. Believe me.”

“But then why didn’t you nap, too?”

“I just have some things on my mind tonight; that’s all. It helps me to lie here beside you and think.”

“Yeah? What are you thinking about?”

“Well…” he hesitated, shifting his gaze to watch his hand trail down her arm and onto her waist. “For one, I’m thinking about the fourth orgasm I owe you.”

Her brow rose. “Seriously? I honestly don’t think that’s necessary, Oliver. Because the first three were all amazing, and I’m pretty darn content to leave it at that.”

His eyes darted back to her face. “I’m not. I promised you four. I have one more to go.”

Felicity nibbled against her lip, her body already responding to the thought of being with him again, especially as his firm fingers continued drifting over her skin. “Are we really going to try for a fourth?”

Oliver smiled roguishly. “We’re not just going to try. We’re going to succeed.”

She sighed with that promise, and then eased her fingers down his chest and onto his abs. Felicity watched the spark in his eyes while she slowly traced across the indentations of his sculpted muscles. Then she moved lower still, to wrap her hand around his cock, taking the semi-hard flesh into her palm and squeezing gently. Oliver moaned, and Felicity grinned. “I’ll only agree to finish this game of ours if you will come again, too,” she said, working her hand up and down his swelling length.

He narrowed his eyes, his fingers closing around her thigh with a firm grip. “I don’t think that will be a problem at all.”

His cock pulsed inside her palm, growing harder and heavier beneath the attentions of her fingers, and Felicity licked her lips. “Well, then, do you think maybe we could get into the shower for this one? Because honestly, I wanted you with me in the shower so bad this morning, I could hardly stand it.”

He gave her another delicious grin before leaning over to press a kiss to her mouth. “The shower it is,” he whispered against her lips, thrusting his erection into her palm a few times before withdrawing himself from her entirely.

Oliver rolled over to his other side, rose up off the mattress, and looked back to her in the darkened room. He held his hand out and Felicity took it, using his support to help her shift across the sheets and stand with him beside the bed. Oliver entwined their fingers as he walked them to the bathroom, guiding her inside the door before closing it behind them. He flipped on the light, making Felicity blink with the brightness.

“Is the light okay?” he asked.

“Sure. If you want it on.”

“I do. I want to see you.”

She blushed with those words, which kind of amazed her, because she knew she’d done enough with him sexually at this point to overcome any embarrassment she could possibly feel. “I want to see you, too,” she admitted, not at all ashamed of that truth.

Oliver pressed a kiss to her hair. “Good.” He led her in front of the large shower stall, and then dropped her hand, but only so he could open the glass door and reach inside to turn on the water and test the temperature.

When he’d finished his tasks, Oliver looked back to her and smiled into her eyes. “Ladies first,” he said, his voice deep and full, moving over her skin.

Felicity stepped into the massive blue-tiled shower and moved directly under the water, letting the heat run over her face and through her hair and across her body. She heard the door close just before Oliver’s chest made contact with her back. Felicity lifted her head, smoothing her wet hair away from her face with both hands, as his arms wrapped around her waist.

She let herself lean back against him, resting her head on his shoulder. Oliver kissed her temple, his rough beard sliding over her soft skin and sending delicious shivers through her entire body. Flattening his hands onto her stomach, he turned them both to side, to let the water coat them evenly. The plump droplets slid across their bodies, dripping down between and around them while steam rose into the air.

Felicity groaned in the back of her throat, and shifted her feet just a little, to feel the slippery movement of his flesh. “You feel really good when you’re wet, Oliver.”

“Hmm. You always feel good when you’re wet.”

She couldn’t help smiling. “Well, you certainly do a fantastic job of making me wet.”

His erection pulsed with her words, twitching into the flesh of her bottom, and Felicity’s breath caught. She remembered another time his cock lay against her ass – back at Blue, just after he’d eaten his steak dinner off of her skin. That night, Oliver had confessed that he wanted to fuck the seam between her ass cheeks, but he’d refused to do it even after she’d offered, because he feared she wouldn’t enjoy it.

Felicity frowned with that memory now. Because she knew this man standing in the shower with her was hell bent on giving her a _fourth_ orgasm, when he’d only allowed himself _one_ , and she wanted to make sure he thoroughly enjoyed himself this time around. Felicity wanted to take care of him, because she knew for certain that he would take care of her.

Her frown eased into a smile with that thought, and she reached her arms up, stretching them up over her head and then behind her, so she could thread her fingers into Oliver’s hair. Felicity held him in place while she pressed one of her ass cheeks firmly onto his erection and then began rocking her hips up and down, enticing him as best she could. Oliver inhaled sharply, his hands moving to her waist while she arched her backside repeatedly against him.

The more Felicity rubbed her skin onto his, the tighter Oliver held her, his fingers gripping into her skin. His cock grew even harder and fuller each time Felicity ran her cheek up against it, and Oliver groaned beside her ear. His heady noises only excited her further, and made her movements quicker, if not a bit disjointed.

Felicity’s fingers tightened in his hair while she moaned in the back of her throat, taking pleasure in the feel of his wet skin and thick shaft and tense muscles. She would have been content to finish him off just like this, but Oliver eventually growled a curse word and pushed her away, forcing her to drop her hands back to her sides. He held her at arms’ length for only a second, just long enough to curse several more times and suck a few deep breaths into his lungs. Then Oliver turned her around.

The moment he pivoted her body to face his, Oliver pressed Felicity back against the tiled shower wall and planted his mouth on hers. His kiss was hungry at first – damn near ravenous. His tongue wound with hers, his lips firm and fiery and insistent. But his eagerness didn’t last long, and he wrenched his mouth away just a few moments later, panting against her skin. “I think we need to slow this down a bit, Felicity.”

She whimpered. “Do we have to?”

Oliver smiled, shifting just enough to jut his lengthy, eager erection into her belly. “Yes, we have to. Because I am obviously more than ready to do this again, but I need to make sure you’re ready, too.”

“Hmm. I feel like I’m pretty ready.”

“Well, _pretty_ _ready_ isn’t good enough,” he explained, smoothing his hands across her shoulders and down her arms and onto her hips. “Because I need you to have a fourth orgasm, so I need to make sure you’re _absolutely_ ready for me again.”

Felicity looked up to his eyes, seeing the sweet and loving determination inside them, and she couldn’t help smiling. “What can I do to help?”

He returned her smile, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her lips before whispering, “Why don’t you wrap your arms around my neck, and just hold onto me, while I touch you?”

“’Kay,” she breathed, not currently capable of forming a full word secondary to the heat of his breath on her face and firm movement of his fingers on her flesh.

She encircled her arms around his shoulders, and laced her fingers together against his neck, while Oliver pressed his lips high on her cheekbone, and then low on her ear, and then just under her jawline. His mouth explored her skin while his hands smoothed over her thighs and stomach and waist, before easing up to her breasts. Felicity whimpered when Oliver ran his fingertips over her nipples, the peaks tightening with furious intent beneath his careful and thorough attentions. Wetness pooled between her legs – wetness that had nothing to do with the hot water pouring down over the sides of their bodies – and Felicity closed her eyes and dropped her head back against the wall, allowing herself to simply feel each amazing sensation.

Oliver continued to kiss her, to kiss her neck and her face and her mouth, his soft lips caressing her skin while his strong hands gently enticed her breasts. Eventually, he eased his skilled fingers around her body and onto her back, tracing the straight line of her spine, up and down, over and over. His hands eased lower on her back each time he ran them downward, until he finally allowed them to smooth over her ass. Oliver groaned when his palms flattened against her firm cheeks, his fingers edging near the soft center seam while he squeezed onto her flesh.

He had the same reaction to her ass as he always did. A feral reaction: desperate and desirous and sinful. Oliver gripped her fiercely with both hands, and growled as he pulled her up onto him, jutting his cock hard and hot into the rounded swell of her tummy. Felicity whimpered with that sensation, and opened her eyes as wide as she could, which was barely at half-mast. “I – I think I’m ready for you now,” she mumbled, the words thick and breathless.

He met her lustful gaze with his own, but shook his head. “No, not yet,” he said, releasing his grip on her ass and easing his hips back, removing his erection from the touch of her skin. “I need to do more for you.”

“ _More_?”

“More,” Oliver verified, smoothing his hands back over her stomach and across her thighs, moving closer and closer to the center of her body.

Felicity knew what he planned to do now. She knew Oliver planned to touch her with his skilled hands, to stroke her sex with merciless precision and light her entire body on fire. And she knew he would do just that, and she would come apart beneath the touch of his fingers. Honestly, right now, she could probably come from just the _thought_ of his touch. Because Oliver was so attentive to her…so incredibly attentive. God, he was so intent on her comfort, and her happiness, and her pleasure, and Felicity wanted to give him something in return for all his efforts – something _more_.

So when his hand moved farther between her legs, Felicity dropped her arms down and grabbed hold of his wrists, stopping his actions.

Oliver ceased moving immediately, and looked to her eyes. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’s…yes. I just want to talk about something.”

His brow furrowed in concern. “What do you want to talk about?”

Felicity took a deep breath. “Do you, um, do you remember that night up at the cabin, when you ate your steak dinner off of my back?”

Oliver threaded their fingers together while he focused on her eyes. “Yes, I remember. It’s not something I’ll ever forget.”

Her lips pulled up in a nervous smile, her hands tightening into his. “I’ll never forget it either, because I really enjoyed myself that night. And you seemed to enjoy yourself, too. Especially when you, um…”

“When I what?”

“Hmm. Well, it’s just that you always say how much love my ass, and on that particular night you were quite attentive to it, and you did this…you did this thing where you, uh…”

Oliver’s eyebrow quirked up when her words faltered. “Do you mean the thing where I ran my fingers up inside of you and then dragged them across the seam of your ass, over and over again, until you were wet inside and out?”

“Yeah, that’s…um-hmm. That’s what you did. And that’s what I want to talk about.”

He swallowed hard. “Why do you want to talk about that?”

Felicity pressed her shoulders back against the wall, attempting to steel herself beneath his penetrating gaze. “Because you said that night that you wanted…”

His fingers tightened against hers. “That I wanted to fuck the seam of your ass and come on your back?”

“Yes. That – that is what you said.”

Oliver’s voice roughened. “You’re right. I did say that.”

Her lips trembled on exhale. “Well, I want to talk about that now. Because you told me in the dress shop earlier today that this weekend should be about us doing the things we _want_ to do. So if you still want to do that to me… _with_ me…then I want us to do it.”

He stared at her for a long minute, just locking her eyes with his. Then Oliver pulled one of his hands from hers, and reached for her face, his fingers easing over her jaw and into her wet hair. “Of course I still want to do that with you. But there are a few obstacles to it right now.”

“What obstacles?”

“Well, first of all, the shower water isn’t exactly the best lubricant in the world, and I don’t know that I could get your skin as slick as I would need it to be. And the other problem is that I’m still not sure you’d enjoy it, and I very much want you to have another orgasm.”

Felicity bit into her lip while she absorbed his words, amazed by his determination to please her. And feeling just as determined to please him. “You know, I think we could probably solve the lubrication problem pretty easily.”

“Yeah? How so?”

“It’s just…we’re in the shower, and there’s a particularly slick thing in here that I use every day. Although maybe you don’t use it, because you don’t need to use it. Because your hair is constantly perfect, and you probably don’t need to do anything to keep it that way. You probably just wake up gorgeous and stay gorgeous all day long, and I didn’t even need to say ‘probably’ right then because I’ve seen that fascinating truth in real life, and…”

“Felicity?”

“Hmm?”

“What slick thing are you talking about?”

“Oh. Yeah. It’s hair conditioner. It’s very slick, so we could use it as a lubricant. I mean, if you think it would work.”

A grin played across his lips. “That’s certainly creative.”

“Um…thank you? Although I don’t know why our room didn’t just come with a supply of lubricant. I mean, really, this is _Vegas_. They should have sex toy vending machines at the bedside, or something.”

Oliver chuckled, his eyes sparkling. “Would you like that?”

“Like what?”

“For us to have some sex toys to play with?”

Felicity’s throat ran dry. “Well, I guess I wouldn’t say _no_.”

He pushed both of his hands into her hair, his pupils dilating while he held her in place. “God, baby, the things I could make you feel if I had toys at my disposal…”

She nearly choked on her own tongue. “Yes, well, I uh…I think that’s a great discussion for another time. But right now I want to talk more about the lubricated ass-seam thing.”

Another chuckle rumbled deep in his chest, and Oliver leaned in to press his lips to hers, just briefly, before straightening again. “You’re wonderful, you know that?” he asked, his gaze attaching to hers. “You’re so damn wonderful, and that’s why I still don’t think we should do this right now.”

“But I don’t understand. Why not?”

“It’s just…I really want to give you an amazing day. I want everything you experience today to be _perfect_. I want you to feel loved and cherished and happy, and I definitely want to give you another orgasm. And I don’t know if I can accomplish all of those things while fucking you in this particular way.”

Felicity reached for his heart, settling her hand on his chest. “You’ve already made today perfect, Oliver. It’s been absolutely amazing, and I think it will be even _more_ amazing if you fuck me this way. Because I already feel wildly loved and cherished and happy, and I’m going to be even happier knowing that I’m giving you something _you_ want.”

Oliver’s head shook, just a little, as he watched her. Then his shoulders fell on a sigh while his fingers twisted into her hair. “I honestly don’t know what I ever did to deserve you, Felicity. I honestly don’t.”

She whimpered with his words, and with the way he looked at her: like she hung the moon, just for him. The level of adoration in his eyes had honestly reached ridiculous proportions, and Felicity knew Oliver had no intention of doing what she’d asked of him, because he wouldn’t focus on his own desires right now…only hers. Because he’d been nothing but sweet and tender and caring with her all day, and she knew this teddy bear of a man standing before her wouldn’t dare do anything that she might consider even remotely untoward.

But right now, right this minute, Felicity didn’t particularly want Teddy Bear Oliver. This side of him was wonderful, of course – so very splendidly wonderful – but she missed having Grizzly Bear Oliver around, at least some of the time. _Now_ being one of those times.

 _I know I’m not supposed to act like a scoundrel again until you tell me you desire it_.

Those were the words Oliver had said to her in the dress shop, just hours ago. Felicity recalled that moment quite easily. She also recalled the code phrase he’d given her in bed yesterday morning – the phrase she could use if she desired the attentions of Scoundrel Oliver _._

The air caught in Felicity’s lungs while her mind wrapped around that phrase, her heart pounding nearly out of her chest as she considered the implications of using it. She nibbled on her lip while she thought, which drew his attention to her mouth. Oliver’s fingers fisted against her scalp, his need for her blatantly apparent in the grip of his hold and the depth of his gaze.

Felicity lifted her chin and straightened her spine. “Oliver?”

His eyes drew back to hers. “Yes?”

“I want my scoundrel now.”

His brow rose exponentially the instant the words left her lips. Oliver’s jaw unhinged, and his eyelids blinked repeatedly, while he stared at her for a long minute. Felicity held still as stone, not moving a muscle, just waiting for him to respond.

After several stretched, torturous moments, a slow, smooth smile eased across his mouth. Oliver released his grip on her hair, and dragged his hand back down to her jaw, cupping it in his palm to lift her face to his. “You sure about that, Felicity?”

“I’m sure.”

“And just so you and I are both clear about what we’re going to do now, that means you want me to be my demanding, controlling self with you. Is that right?”

Her breath hitched at the devilish look in his eyes. “Yes,” she admitted with an anxious lick of her lips.

Oliver leaned in, to lick her lips for himself. “I like the sound of that,” he murmured, just before dragging his tongue over the seam of her mouth and then slipping it inside.

He melded their lips together, kissing her so thoroughly that Felicity had to lock her knees to keep from collapsing. Oliver’s hand still cradled her face when he eased back to rest their foreheads together. He breathed in deep, whispering to her as the sound of the falling water filled the air. “You know, while I’m being a scoundrel, you can always tell me to stop what I’m doing, at any time.”

“I know. I trust you,” she breathed. “I want my fourth orgasm, Oliver.”

“You’ll have it,” he vowed, pulling back just enough to see her face. “You do understand that I’m going to tell you what to do now, right? And that I expect you to do everything I say, the moment I say it?”

Her nipples hardened with the dark look in his eyes and the deep scrape of his voice. “I do understand that. I am at your mercy.”

“And I am at yours.”

“I love you.”

“I know you do,” he said, straightening in front of her. “But I love you _more_.”

She huffed. “More? You can’t _possibly_ love me mo…”

“ _Felicity_ ,” he growled, cutting her off with a fierce glare. “Don’t. Correct. Me.”

Her mouth dropped open with the blatant command.

Every muscle in Felicity’s body stiffened as her entire being screamed at her to correct his damn ass. She wanted to inform Oliver that he couldn’t speak to her that way, _ever_ , even if it was about how much he loved her. She wanted to use her _loudest_ loud voice on him, right now.

But then Felicity watched a smile curve Oliver’s lips – a playful, teasing smile – accompanied by a daring rise of his eyebrow, and she understood.

_Sweet hell, he’s testing me right now. He wants to see how far he can push me with this whole scoundrel-thing. And I have to decide what I’m willing to put up with._

She knew she could stop him this instant. After all, she was the one who’d asked for this. She’d requested Oliver’s controlling, demanding side, so unless she told him to stop, he was going to be controlling and demanding with her. That should probably piss her off. And honestly, Oliver probably expected her to fight him on it.

Felicity pursed her lips, grappling with the situation. She could either call off this game of theirs right now…or she could give up her control, and give herself completely over to his, just for a little while. She could allow them both these moments to play together, because she trusted him. She trusted him to keep her safe, and to ensure her pleasure. She trusted him to control himself, and her, in ways that bordered on unnatural. And she trusted him to love her.

So Felicity made her decision.

“I’m very sorry, Mr. Queen,” she said, barely recognizing her own voice for its breathiness. “I promise I won’t correct you again.”

Oliver’s eyes widened with her response, his brain registering the words he probably didn’t expect to hear. The teasing grin on his lips transformed, mutating swiftly into something dark and desirous and delicious. He straightened himself before her, letting his hands fall to rest at his sides. Then he cleared his throat and pinned her with a determined gaze.

“That’s excellent, Felicity. Now I want you to grab hold of the hair conditioner, and put a good amount of it into your hands.”

“Alright,” she consented, reaching to the shelf beside her.

While she opened the bottle, and poured the thick white cream into her palm, Oliver stretched one arm to the showerhead and adjusted the angle of water down to their feet. Felicity wasn’t sure why at first, but when she thought about where she needed to put this slick substance in her hands, it made perfect sense that they wouldn’t want it to wash away. The heat from the water still rose around them, even if the droplets no longer landed directly on their bodies, and Felicity took a deep breath in when she finally set the bottle back down on the shelf. With one hand full of conditioner, she shifted her spine against the cool surface of the shower wall, and looked back up to him.

Oliver met her eyes. “I’d like you to rub that between your palms, now. To warm it to the temperature of your skin.”

Felicity nodded, and did as instructed, running the smooth cream against her fingers.

He smiled devilishly with her acquiescence. “Now I want you to put it on me.”

She didn’t hesitate in her compliance. Reaching down, Felicity wrapped both her hands around Oliver’s cock. Her warm fingers still felt cool compared to the heat of his skin, and he sucked in a deep breath the moment she touched him. But he didn’t move, or flinch, or even blink as he watched her. He simply stared into her, locking her gaze with his penetrating blue.

Felicity slid her hands up and down his long, rigid length, slathering the cream over his taut skin. She watched the muscle in Oliver’s jaw twitch as she worked, and her nipples hardened further, even in the heat of the steamy air. Biting her lip to keep from moaning, Felicity squeezed tight to his stiff shaft while she smoothed the conditioner onto his skin, rubbing him over and over, until eventually Oliver groaned and reached down to her wrists, grasping one of them in each of his hands.

“That’s enough,” he said, his voice strained as he lifted her arms up and shifted them to the side, placing her hands beneath the running showerhead beside them.

Oliver held her fingers under the hot water, rinsing them clean. The moment the thick cream had washed away, he brought her hands back toward him, gathering them close to his face in order to press a kiss into each of her palms. Felicity giggled with the ticklish sensation of his jaw stubble against her skin, and when Oliver heard her laughter, he nipped at her skin.

“Ouch!” she squealed.

His brow rose. “Did that hurt?”

“Well, you did just _bite_ me.”

He stared into her. “Yes, I did. And I intend to bite you some more. So I need to know if it really hurt, or if it actually felt good.”

Her breath caught with the look of temptation in his eyes. “It – it felt good.”

Oliver smiled, just briefly, before bringing her hand back to his mouth and biting her again. Felicity didn’t squeal this time. She didn’t protest. She just relished the way his teeth felt against her flesh, and how his tongue soothed over the little temporary indentations he’d left on her skin when he finished nipping at her. By the time Oliver looked back to her eyes, pinning them beneath an unwavering gaze, Felicity could feel goose bumps rising all over her body.

“I want you to turn around now,” he informed her. “I want you to turn, and face the wall, and place your hands flat against the tile.”

She nodded her consent, barely able to drag her eyes away from his in order to do as he’d instructed. But she managed it finally – she managed to pivot her body, and turn herself toward the dark blue tiles. Then she flattened her palms against the wall, stretching her fingers out against the cool surface.

Felicity stilled, sensing Oliver behind her. He didn’t touch her anywhere, at least not physically. But she could still feel him: the heat of his skin moving across the inches that separated them; the warmth of his breath brushing over her shoulder when he stepped in closer. He still wasn’t close enough for their bodies to touch, and air came in short, stuttered movements to Felicity’s lungs as she waited for him to do something. Then she felt his hands in her hair, brushing her curls over one of her shoulders, pushing the soaked strands to the front of her body.

Oliver’s mouth moved instantly to the back of her neck, his lips caressing the skin he’d exposed. He spent a thorough minute loving that particular spot, until he kissed his way down the side of her neck and onto her shoulder. He hovered over the skin there for an instant, his breathing rough and strained, and Felicity tensed in anticipation until the moment he sunk his teeth into her flesh.

She knew it was coming; she really did. But the instant he bit into her, she still groaned, and her fingers still fisted against the cold tiles, and wetness still pooled directly between her legs. Felicity let her head fall back, resting it onto Oliver’s shoulder as he stroked his tongue across her freshly marked skin. She shifted her hips, arching them back a bit, needing more contact with him. But Oliver didn’t allow it.

He reached down the moment she tried to press back into him, grasping her waist in his large hands and curling his fingertips around her hipbones. He steadied her in place, a place still so far away from him, and Felicity whimpered. “I – I want to feel you.”

Oliver nipped at her skin again. “I know. But not just yet.”

“Why not?”

“Because I want to touch you some more,” he whispered against her ear. “I want to touch you all over, and feel your smooth, perfect skin under my fingers. And I fully intend to do what I want to right now.”

He released his hold on her hips then, and dragged his hands onto her back. Oliver smoothed his palms all the way up the straight line of her spine, and Felicity’s head fell forward. She rested her forehead against the cold surface of the shower wall and stared down at the floor.

She concentrated on the sight of her pink painted toenails standing in the constantly swirling water at their feet. Felicity forced herself to stare down, in order to ground herself, so she wouldn’t dissolve into a pile of goo while Oliver worshipped her body all over again. He ran his fingers everywhere, from the nape of her neck to the lines of her shoulders, across her arms and her back and her waist and her thighs. He didn’t touch her ass, though. He passed over it conspicuously enough to be intentional, coming to a halt when his hands reached her low spine and curving his fingers around her hips instead, before continuing his exploration down the length of her legs.

Felicity felt him sink to the ground behind her. She felt his hands continue moving down her thighs and onto her calves, felt his fingers massage into all her tensed muscles. And she could only moan and whimper, knowing that he knelt behind her, and that his face was now flush with her bottom.

He continued to kneel on the ground even when his hands stopped their exploration and settled onto the backs of her thighs. Felicity heard nothing but the sound of the water falling onto the floor at their feet, and the pants of air leaving her chest, while Oliver shifted his body closer to hers. Then she felt the heat of his breath on her skin, right over the curve of one ass cheek. She gasped when he kissed her right _there_ , and then gasped again, even louder, when he bit down. Oliver held her flesh between his teeth for a moment, his tongue tasting her skin with tiny, deliberate licks, until he soothed the spot with another kiss.

His jaw stubble scraped across her ass while Oliver moved over an inch and bit her again, and licked her again, and kissed her again, and then growled deep in his throat. He repeated his actions over and over, and Felicity whimpered with each graze of his teeth against her flesh, not because it hurt, but because of how attentive he was to every single bit of her. She had no idea how much time passed while he tasted her skin, but it was long enough for the wetness from her sex to seep onto her thighs.

When Oliver eventually stood back up, he dragged his hands with him, never breaking contact with her as his fingers traced a path back up her legs and onto her belly. The moment his hard chest came flush with her back, he lowered his mouth to her ear, and bit into her earlobe, and then pressed his nose into her temple. “I was right about what I said this morning, Felicity. Your ass is quite edible.”

She nibbled against her lip. “Is it?”

“Yes. And just so you’re aware, I will definitely be tasting more of it in the future.”

Felicity could only whimper in response to that promise, but she did nod her head in acceptance, and Oliver hummed his approval beside her ear. His hand stroked over the tiny swell of her stomach, his fingertips edging around the circle of her bellybutton while Felicity waited to see what he wanted to do next. Then Oliver moved his touch up slowly, skimming across her fiery skin with even hotter hands, until he could grasp both of her breasts in his palms.

Sucking in another breath, Felicity squeezed her eyes shut tight. She muttered a few choice curse words when his fingers edged across her nipples, and when he rolled them and pinched them, just hard enough to approach painful. “Damn, Oliver, that’s…”

“Too rough?”

“No. Uh-uh. Not. At all. Not.”

He huffed out a laugh against her shoulder, biting into her flesh again before kissing it. “You’re so beautiful. Do you know that?” he asked, squeezing her nipples between his fingers once more before cupping the weight of her breasts in his hands. “Do you know how beautiful you are?”

She didn’t say anything.

“Tell me you know that,” he urged in her silence, his voice deep and lulling, traveling beneath her skin. “Tell me you’re beautiful.”

“I’m…I’m beautiful.”

He pressed the side of his face to hers. “Say it again. Like you _mean_ it.”

A soft smile pulled up her lips, because she knew how Oliver saw her, and she knew he demanded that she see it in herself. “I’m _beautiful,_ Oliver.”

He sighed into her hair. “You are; you’re so incredibly beautiful. Honestly, I can’t believe you’re mine. It’s unreal.”

“I am yours.”

“I know. And I love it. I love you. Always.”

“Always,” she echoed, feeling moisture gather behind her closed eyelids.

Oliver ran his fingers over her nipples again, and again, smoothing across her wet skin with deliciously sure strokes. The movements sent tiny bolts of electricity shooting down between her legs, and Felicity stretched her hands out against the tiles and bit into her lip. She shifted her thighs, over and over again, repeating the motion more and more forcefully in an attempt to soothe the aching throb inside her soaking wet sex.

“Stop. Moving. Your. Legs,” Oliver demanded, the words raw in his throat.

Felicity groaned. “Why?”

“Because it’s driving me mad. I want to fuck you so badly right now.”

“Then why don’t you?”

Oliver inhaled deeply before releasing a slow exhale. “Actually, I think I will.”

She pressed her forehead harder into the wall, her entire body tensing in anticipation.

He pinched her nipples one more time, eliciting a moan from her parted lips, before easing his fingers back down to her waist. Oliver dragged his hands from her stomach across her hipbones, and around to her back. Then he touched her ass. He finally touched her there with his hands, pressing both palms flat to her supple cheeks, his fingers curling into her flesh. “ _Damn_ ,” he growled beside her ear. “Do you know what I’m thinking right now?”

Felicity smiled. “Are you thinking that you love my ass?”

“You’re exactly right. I’m thinking that I fucking love your ass. And that I’m going to love fucking your ass.”

Her breath hitched with those words, because Felicity knew they could have more than one meaning, and she didn’t know if she was ready for all of that. “Oliver, I…”

“Just the outside,” he amended, his lips pressing into her shoulder, his tongue tasting her skin between assurances. “I’m only going to fuck the outside of your ass right now. That’s all.” He kissed his way up her neck, and then nibbled against her earlobe. “Maybe, one day, we could do more. If you want to. I’ll leave that completely up to you. For now, I just want to fuck the perfect seam between your cheeks, and come into this gorgeous little indentation at the bottom of your spine.”

Oliver moved one of his hands up then, tracing across the divot at the base of her back, just above the seam. He touched her softly, and reverently, caressing that soft dimple with the tips of his fingers. His lips pressed into her neck, his tongue edging a damp path against her already wet skin.

Felicity balled her fists into the wall, struggling to prepare herself for the sensations to come. She pressed her eyes shut tight, and tried to concentrate on the feel of his mouth and his fingers against her. She held her breath just so she could listen to his, so she could hear the shallow pants leaving his chest as he edged his body closer to hers.

When his cock finally pressed into her flesh, easing up against that soft center seam, Felicity sucked in a deep, filling breath. Then Oliver pushed in a little farther, settling the full length of his erection in between her cheeks, until his hips made contact with her skin. Felicity could feel the taut head of his shaft at the base of her spine, and she groaned.

“You okay?” he questioned, his voice rough as sandpaper.

“Yes, I’m just…it’s just…different.”

“What does it feel like?”

Felicity chewed on her lip, and on her words, while Oliver’s cock twitched between her ass cheeks. “It feels soft,” she realized, “because the conditioner is slick, and it’s warm, like your body. But it also feels hard, like you. Which I love.”

He reached both of his hands to her hips. “I want to move. Is that okay?”

“Um-hmm.”

Pressing another kiss to her shoulder, Oliver curled his fingers into her hipbones to steady her. Then he eased back just a bit before arching himself into her once again, sliding the hard ridge of his erection up the center of her ass, until the head of his cock hit the base of her spine. The pressure of his movements edged Felicity forward, pushing parts of her body against the wall of tile in front of them.

“ _Oh!_ ” she squeaked.

Oliver stilled himself instantly. “Are you doing alright with this?”

She rested her forehead against the wall while she tried to catch her breath. “I am. I’m doing great, it’s just…”

“Just what?”

“When you pushed into me, I sort of hit the cold tile.”

His fingers twitched. “Do you mean your breasts hit the tile?”

“Y-yes.”

Oliver huffed out a breath of warm air on her shoulder. “And did that feel good?”

“I – I don’t know.”

“Then let’s try it again.”

“Try it again?”

“Yes,” he said, holding tight to her hips as he dragged his cock down, and then back up, the seam of her ass.

Felicity moaned with the sensation of his slick, hard length rubbing inside her sensitive skin, but could barely concentrate on that feeling before her breasts hit the tile again, the cold surface pulling against the tight peaks. She whimpered, her fingers shifting against the wall while she attempted to reconcile each unique sensation. The only noise she could make at this point sounded like something between a gasp and a curse, and she squeezed her fists to cope.

Oliver uncurled his left hand from her hip, and trailed it slowly up the side of her body, over her shoulder, and onto her left hand. He rubbed her coiled fist, again and again, until she finally relaxed beneath his palm. Then he threaded their fingers together, holding both of their hands steady against the wall, while he whispered beside her ear.

“Felicity, if this is too much for you, we’ll stop.”

She shook her head immediately. “No, don’t stop. Please don’t stop. But do keep holding my hand. I love that.”

He tightened his fingers against hers. “I love it, too,” he said, placing a kiss on the shell of her ear.

Oliver ran his cock up inside her soft ridge again, which rubbed her nipples quite precisely into the tile. The motion sent a spike of electricity from her breasts straight down to her sex, and she gripped his fingers and groaned against the wall. Then Felicity shifted forward again, pressing her nipples against the tile of her own volition, in order to send another shock wave through her body and urge another gasp from her lips.

His mouth pulled into a smile against her shoulder. “You like the way the wall feels when your nipples rub against it, don’t you, baby?”

“Y-yes,” she admitted, barely getting the word out.

“Then keep doing it. I want you to keep rubbing yourself against the wall, every time I thrust into you. Because I just don’t have enough hands right now.”

“You don’t have enough hands for what?”

“To touch you every way I want to,” he explained, squeezing his left hand against hers while bringing his right hand down from her hip, and across her thigh, and between her legs.

Felicity shifted her knees apart the moment she felt Oliver’s fingers roaming the outside of her sex. He touched her slowly, and softly, just tracing over her inner thighs and around the tender area. And that made Felicity groan with anticipation and more than a little frustration.

Oliver shifted his cock down and back up the seam of her ass, pushing her nipples into the wall once again. “ _Damn it_ ,” she grumbled, banging the curled fist of her right hand into the wall beside her head.

He nipped against her shoulder, and then smiled into her skin. “You want my finger inside of you, don’t you?”

“Yes. _Please_.”

“Hmm…you first.”

“What?”

“I want you to touch yourself, Felicity. I want you to put your own finger inside you.”

Flames of heat flushed her face, which was a surprising accomplishment given the level of steam building in the shower around them.

Oliver reached his right hand up and onto to hers, smoothing over that fist where it rested on the wall. “Relax this for me.”

She did as instructed, easing her fingers open to feel the cool tile beneath her palm.

“Excellent,” he whispered beside her ear. “Now touch yourself. Please.”

Felicity took a shaky breath in when she complied, sliding her hand onto her belly first, warming her tile-cooled hand with the temperature of her body. Oliver placed his own hand back on her thigh, smoothing up and down her skin, while he waited patiently for her to do what he wanted. His mouth moved over her shoulder, teasing and tasting, when Felicity finally pushed her hand down between her legs and then slid one finger up inside her sex.

“Mmm,” she hummed the moment she slipped inside.

Oliver bit into her shoulder, a little harder than before, and her eyes rolled back into her head. “How do you feel?” he asked, his hot breath brushing over her neck.

“Wh-what?”

“Tell me what you feel like inside. Tell me how it feels when you touch yourself.”

“It feels…it feels soft inside. Soft and smooth and so, so wet.”

He pressed his hips forward, gliding his stiff length up between her ass cheeks once again. “You feel amazing inside, don’t you?”

Felicity shifted her finger, sliding it over her throbbing flesh. “Yes.”

“I know. I know how amazing you feel. I just wanted to make sure that you to know it, too.” Oliver moved his hand from her thigh to her arm then, trailing a path over her wrist. The moment his hand rested on top of hers, he pressed down, urging her finger deeper inside her.

“God, Oliver, that’s…”

“It’s incredible, isn’t it? Feeling you is _so_ incredible.”

She whimpered.

“I need to join you,” Oliver growled, his chin stubble scraping across her neck.

“Join me?”

“Yes. I need to feel you for myself, to feel how soft and wet you are.”

His words accompanied the simultaneous movement of his hand, and Felicity didn’t have time to respond, or react, at all. Not before Oliver’s palm slid down across her skin, and his middle finger eased swiftly and seamlessly up into her body. She gasped the moment both of their fingers came to rest, side-by-side, deep within the tight walls of her sex.

Oliver pushed the head of his cock into her lower back again, the solid wall of his chest hitting her shoulder blades. “You’re right; you feel amazing. Just amazing.”

Felicity exhaled shakily. “I don’t know why this should surprise me, because you’ve certainly had two fingers inside me before, but having one of those fingers be mine is a bit different.”

“Different in a good way?”

“Yes.”

“Perfect.”

He pressed his lips to the skin of her neck as he squeezed her left hand inside his own, stabilizing it up against the tile wall. Then he urged her closer to him with his right forearm, pressing her back onto his chest even as his finger remained lodged deep inside her. Once he had their bodies fused together, Oliver spoke again, his voice firm despite its breathlessness.

“I’m going to fuck you now, Felicity. I’m going to fuck you with my cock inside the seam of your ass and with our fingers inside your body, while your nipples drag up and down against this wall. And you’re going to come for me. You’re going to come _so_ _goddamn_ _hard_ for me. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” she said, nodding her head over and over again. “I understand.”

Oliver curled his middle finger up inside her sex, around her own finger. Then he flattened the palm of that hand against her tight bundle of nerve endings. Felicity felt her aching little bud beneath her skin, and she mewled.

“You ready?”

“Mm-hmm. Ready.”

Oliver did just what he promised, then.

He rubbed his cock up inside her ass cheeks, and pushed her nipples against the wall, and slid his finger against hers as they stroked her inner muscles together. At first, it was almost too much for Felicity to handle. Too much sensation all at once. The feel of his hard length against her tender skin, the feel of her peaked nipples dragging over the cold tile surface, the feel of their fingers pressing inside her wet heat: it overwhelmed her – all of it – and she worked to breathe and to focus while Oliver created repetitive, undulating waves of electricity throughout her body.

The steam rose up all around them, filling her lungs with warmth and surrounding them in a tight little cocoon just for the two of them, here and now. Oliver rested his face beside hers while he controlled the movements and sensations of both of their bodies, and Felicity’s legs shook as she absorbed each and every feeling. Holding tight to Oliver’s hand against the wall, she focused on his breathing: the short, staccato pants in and out of his lungs. He groaned beside her ear, all of his tensed muscles working to hold them as close together as possible.

Felicity concentrated on his panted breaths, and his deep moans, hearing the increase in tempo when he slid his slick cock up and down her wet skin. The feel of his body’s need, and the sound of his pleasure, brought a smile to her lips even as she worked to draw air into her lungs. “Do you – do you like this?” she asked, not because she questioned it, but because she just wanted to hear him say the words.

He squeezed hard to her fingers as he held them against the tile. “God, yes.”

“Is it just what you wanted?”

“ _You_ are what I want. You, Felicity. I want you every possible way I can have you.”

His hips shifted again, pressing her into the wall while his finger drove in and out of her sex, urging her own finger to do the same. A strangled groan left Oliver’s throat just before he pulled his upper body slightly away from hers. Felicity felt him rest his forehead onto the back of her hair, and she knew he’d shifted his position so he could look down. She knew Oliver now watched his cock slide up through her seam, knew he watched the movements intently, and that realization pooled a fresh wave of wetness between her thighs and onto their fingers.

Felicity moaned while imagining the sight of his rigid erection in between her ass cheeks. “Do you like what you see, Oliver?”

“ _Yes_ ,” he breathed, pumping his hips faster as he slid their fingers together up inside her sex, and pushed her palm down against the tight bud of nerves at the top.

A frisson of lightning shot through her body and Felicity clung tighter to his hand. “You like watching yourself move inside me like that?”

“Yes. Hell, yes. I _love_ it.”

Felicity whimpered with the feel of their fingers in front of her, and the sensation of his hard cock behind her. “I’m glad. Because I love it, too. I love feeling your skin moving like that on mine. I love it when you fuck my ass.”

“ _Goddamn it_. Stop talking. Now.”

“Why? Because the sound of my voice makes you want to come?”

“Yes.”

“I want that,” she admitted, pressing her hand down against herself, feeling the crackles of electricity radiating out from her aching nerve bud. “I want you to come right on my back.”

“Fuck, baby. I’m going to. I can’t last much longer.”

“Then just let go.”

“But I want you with me.”

“I will be. When I feel you come, I will, too.”

Oliver ran his finger up inside her sex, deep within the walls beside her own finger, forcing a whimper from her throat. “Swear it, Felicity.”

“I swear it.”

He muttered something beneath his breath, something that sounded like a grateful curse, and then he pumped his hips a few more times, running his cock hard and steady between her ass cheeks, until his entire body tensed all at once. Oliver shifted his mouth to her shoulder, and bit down into her skin, the moment he came. The action muffled the sound of his screams as his fluid started spurting, hot and thick, onto her lower back.

Felicity moaned the second his teeth sunk into her shoulder, and pressed her hand hard against her own sex, and pushed her nipples into the wall. She came instantly, her eyes rolling back while she relished the feel of his liquid pulsing onto the base of her spine. She didn’t have anything to bite into, so her screams came out loud and clear, reverberating off the shower walls.

Oliver untwined their fingers, leaving Felicity’s hand against the wall so he could bring his arm down to wrap it around her shoulders and across her chest, pulling her harder against him. He clamped them together while his tongue soothed the teeth marks he’d made, his muscles still contracting with the last few pulsations of his cock inside her soft seam. Felicity continued to brace her fingers on the tile as she rested back onto him, allowing Oliver to hold them together, allowing her to bask in the arcs of lightning still firing out through her body.

He kissed her skin, slowly and surely, his lips dragging up her neck and onto her ear, until Felicity eventually felt the last explosion in her body subside. Then she exhaled completely, her body sagging against his. When Oliver felt her relax, he eased his finger out of her sex, letting her to do the same. Her arm dropped down to her side for a moment, but he instantly grabbed her hand, and wound it in his, and brought it around her waist so he could band her even tighter to him. Both of his arms wrapped fully around her now, and when Felicity’s legs swayed, Oliver shifted himself enough to press his knee between hers. The action created a makeshift chair for her on his thigh, so Felicity just gave in, dropping her hand from the wall and collapsing completely onto him.

Oliver chuckled beside her ear and Felicity smiled. “That’s number four,” she breathed.

“That’s number four,” he echoed, pressing his nose to the curve of her ear, sending another wave of shivers across her skin. A moment later, Oliver eased his chest off of her back a bit, and uncurled one arm from around her, in order to reach for the showerhead. Directing the stream of water onto them once again, Oliver washed away his thick liquid from the base of her spine. He smoothed his fingers over her skin even as he supported her with the rest of his body, and Felicity sighed with his attentions.

The moment he’d rinsed her clean, Oliver shifted the showerhead away again and then wrapped her back up in both arms, and all Felicity could do was giggle in drunken delight before speaking. “You know, four orgasms for me and two for you makes a total of six in just a couple hours. I’m wondering if that’s some sort of world record.”

His responding laughter shifted his body in delightful ways, and Felicity wriggled against him, although she couldn’t move much, secondary to the vice grip he currently had on her. “Hmm…I really want to see your smile right now, Oliver. Do you think I can turn around?”

“I don’t know. Can you stand?”

“Probably. If I make myself.”

“Okay, we’ll try it,” he offered, reaching both of his hands to her hips and easing her off of his knee in order to pivot her body.

The instant Felicity found herself facing him, she threw her arms around his neck and plastered her mouth to his. Oliver smiled against her lips while he returned the eager, wild kiss. His hands snaked around her back, sliding smoothly across her wet skin.

Felicity enjoyed the feel of his tongue wrapped with hers for long, thorough minutes, before finally pulling back to gaze up to his eyes. “So…I _really_ like The Number Game.”

He chuckled. “Good. We can play it whenever you like.”

Her eyes widened at the prospect of _more_ , and she watched him give her an easy, reassuring smile. Which truly stunned her at this moment. “I have to say, I’m amazed by how much effort you’re willing to put in to make me happy.”

His arms tightened around her. “I would do anything to make you happy. You know that, right?”

“I do know that. And I just hope The Number Game made you happy, too.”

“It did. Very happy.”

“I’m so glad,” she breathed, combing her fingers up into his hair. “Does that mean I actually managed to fulfill your fantasy?”

“What fantasy?”

“The one I still owe you from when we were at Blue. You almost used it in my office the other day when you tied me up, but you didn’t. So I thought maybe the ass-seam-sex thing might have been the fantasy you wanted me to fulfill for you.”

A slow smile curved his lips. “Nope. Sorry.”

“You mean this wasn’t a good fantasy?”

“This was an _amazing_ fantasy. But it still doesn’t count.”

“Why not? Is there another fantasy you want me to give you?”

Oliver drew one hand up her back and over her jaw, shifting his fingers against her skin. “This is probably going to sound really bad, Felicity, but I’m going to be brutally honest with you. I have no intention of ever asking you to fulfill that fantasy, because I want you to owe it to me, always. Because I figure as long as you owe me that, you’ll stay with me. And that’s what I really want, more than anything. I just want you to stay with me.”

Felicity’s heart squeezed like hell inside her chest, forcing a whimper from her suddenly tight throat. “Oliver…I’m not going anywhere. Not as long as you want me with you.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

He relaxed then. He exhaled, and rested his forehead onto hers, and eased the tight band of his arm from her back. “Thank God,” he whispered.

She closed her eyes with his words, smoothing her fingers into his hair and sinking against him. Water ran down around them, making their entire world warm and soft and enveloping. And Felicity just held him to her, and allowed herself to bask in the joy of it all.

She could have fallen asleep again, right here, just holding onto him inside their little cocoon. But then Oliver squeezed her tighter and said, “I want to take you out to dinner now. Can I take you out to dinner, please?”

Felicity giggled, because she heard a tremor in his voice and she knew she had Teddy Bear Oliver back again. “Gosh, I don’t know about that. Going out to dinner is such a big step in our relationship. I don’t know if I’m ready for it.”

Oliver pulled back enough to see her, meeting her playful blue eyes with his own. “Is it too much, too soon?”

She shrugged.   “It’s okay. I mean, I think it’s a little late for me to play hard-to-get.”

He laughed, deep and full, before pressing his lips to hers and kissing her with gentle yet determined intent. By the time he eased away from her, Felicity’s innards felt warm and pliable and downright squishy, and she smiled languidly up at him. “I’m just going to wash up really quickly, and then I’ll give you the place to yourself,” he said.

Felicity nodded, and then stood with her back propped against the wall as she watched him run a bar of soap across his skin. She giggled with his movements, because she realized how ridiculous it was to envy a bar of soap. And yet she did.

The moment Oliver finished with his task, he leaned in to press another kiss to her lips. “Take your time finishing up in here, and I’ll meet you outside when you’re done.”

“’Kay,” Felicity agreed, still grinning even after Oliver stepped out of the shower and left the bathroom. Actually, smiling felt like a permanent ailment at this point, and she decided to just go with that sensation. So her lips continued to pull upward as she washed her body, and as she washed her hair, and as she blushed wildly while reaching for the conditioner bottle.

When Felicity eventually hopped out of the shower to towel off, she noticed the dress Oliver had bought her earlier today resting on the counter by the sink, along with her red high heels. Felicity moved even faster then, because she knew he’d set the clothes here for her, and she wanted to finish getting ready so she could be back in his arms.

As she dried her hair, and fixed it into a soft up-do, and fussed a bit over the gorgeous new dress because she simply had to, Felicity tried not to think too much about all that had happened today, or in the past several days. Or in the past three weeks, for that matter. Because she knew that the love between her and Oliver was a good thing…it was a _fantastic_ thing, and she intended to cherish it, just as her mother encouraged her to do. So Felicity settled her mind, and focused on her heartbeat, while she finished readying herself.

The moment she stepped out of the bathroom, her eyes locked in on Oliver. He’d dressed in a tailored black suit with a crisp white shirt beneath it, and he stood by the huge window, staring out over the city. Felicity gasped air into her lungs, because it hurt just to look at him, and with the sound of her sharp inhale he turned toward her.

Oliver smiled as soon as his eyes fastened on hers, and she could barely contain the love in her body. “You – you look so handsome,” she breathed, her fingers twitching at the sides of her shimmering gown.

He moved toward her instantly, striding around the bed to appear before her with lightning speed. Oliver’s hands found her face, and his lips found her mouth, and Felicity breathed in deep with the sensation of his kiss and of his warmth and of his strength. She wrapped her fingers around his forearms, easily feeling his muscles beneath the fine fabric of his suit as she held on for dear life.

When he pulled back from her lips, he whispered, “You look absolutely gorgeous.”

Felicity blushed with the admiration in his eyes. “Thank you.”

He straightened then, and held his arm out, and Felicity laced her hand around it. Oliver guided them both out of the hotel room, and into the elevator, and down to the first floor, and through the lobby. The moment they stepped out of the building and onto the sidewalk, the sights of Vegas surrounded them. Glitter and sparkle and shine, raucous noises and joyful laughter, happiness and smiles.

She squeezed tight to his arm as they walked for several blocks, and kept her firm hold on him when he led her through the doors to a beautiful restaurant close to a display of jumping fountains. Oliver pulled her chair out for her when the hostess brought them to their table, and then seated himself right by her side. He touched Felicity often as they ate together, caressing her hand or her shoulder, or running his fingers over her leg. Oliver kept almost constant contact with her, and Felicity smiled to herself at the thought of how much she’d longed for touch three weeks ago, and how much she had now.

Oliver maintained their contact even when he guided her back out of the restaurant some time later, after they’d shared an amazing meal, and enjoyed easy conversation, and exchanged so many adoring, loving looks that Felicity feared they might make the other restaurant patrons nauseous. He took her hand securely in his when they ventured back out onto the sidewalk, blending in with the throngs of people still wandering the Vegas streets at night. Felicity smiled and beamed as they walked along together, enjoying the sparkling, shimmering beauty of everything around them.

Small gatherings of people punctuated the sidewalk at intervals where onlookers gathered to watch various street performers. The makeshift circles formed around musicians, and living statues, and oddly dressed men and women of all shapes and sizes. Oliver steered Felicity around the crowds, keeping them both on course to return to their hotel, even as Felicity tried to see everything all at once. She pulled on Oliver from time to time while she leaned around people, eager to watch all the little shows on the side streets, and Oliver just chuckled beside her, and held her steady, and kept her moving. His footing never faltered once.

Not until they reached the chapel.

It was a little white chapel, right there on the street corner, with a purple door and purple windows looking out to the street. Felicity probably wouldn’t have glanced at it twice, except for the fact that Oliver paused. He slowed them both down in front of it, and looked to the door, and his hesitation pulled Felicity’s gaze to the building, making her breath catch in her lungs.

Her entire body stiffened. And for one minute, she thought Oliver might guide her straight toward the chapel door. For one brief second, Felicity thought he might ask her to marry him, here and now. Because she was suddenly very aware of how perfect everything felt at this moment: how lovely their day had gone; how intimately connected they’d been; how beautifully they were dressed.

Honestly, everything felt damn near flawless between them right now, so Felicity’s body remained stiff and tight next to his, while she waited to see what Oliver planned to do. She held as still as the human statues they’d seen on the street, staying frozen beside him. Until the moment Oliver began walking again.

Only a few brief seconds had passed, and Oliver didn’t mention anything about the chapel when he resumed his footsteps. He just pulled her along with him, and kept moving down the sidewalk, while holding her hand. Felicity decided not to ask any questions. Because she knew it should be a relief that he didn’t intend to go down that road right now. Because an impromptu Vegas wedding shouldn’t be something either of them desired.

At least, that’s what she told herself while they continued walking.

Once they made their way safely past the chapel with the purple door, Felicity forced a sigh of relief from her chest, and allowed herself to resume a gawking fascination at the world around them. Oliver grew quiet as they strolled, but he always kept their fingers interwoven, and kept her body beside his. He maneuvered her deftly through the crowds, winding them together around a street magician doing card tricks, and then pulling her close to him when a group of young women rushed down the sidewalk.

Felicity watched the fast-moving gaggle of ladies with a broad grin on her face. “Wow. I do believe that is a Bachelorette party,” she mentioned when the squealing women zipped past in their festive dresses and high heels.

Oliver chuckled beside her. “What was your first clue?”

“I think it was the woman wearing the sash that says, ‘Bride-to-be’ and sporting a huge foam penis on the top of her head.”

“Yeah, that was my first clue, too,” he said, his laughter making Felicity smile wider.

“Well, I just hope that whoever she’s marrying will give her lots of orgasms.”

Oliver made a choking sound in the back of his throat. “Excuse me?”

Felicity glanced up to his face in time to capture the stunned look in his eyes. “Oh, sorry…I guess that sounded a little funny. It’s just that I’m still feeling incredibly satiated from all the orgasms I had earlier, and so I’m wishing the best for that young woman.”

His tensed shoulders settled with her words, and Oliver smiled while they continued walking. “All I took from that sentence is that you think I’m the best.”

Felicity giggled and held tighter to his hand. “Well, of course you’re the best. In every way, shape and form.”

Another wedding chapel appeared beside them then, this one twice the size of the last, with large pink neon palm trees decorating the front yard. Oliver’s footing didn’t falter at all as they passed by it, so Felicity allowed herself to marvel at the curious sight while they continued moving down the sidewalk, back toward their hotel.

They passed a third chapel on the next block, this one decorated in gold and silver stripes, and Felicity remembered just then that wedding chapels were a dime a dozen here in Vegas. Which made her acknowledge how silly it was of her to even consider that Oliver might propose tonight. After all, they’d only known each other for three weeks.

She settled her mind then, and just enjoyed the steady, solid feel of Oliver’s body beside her as he continued leading her down the street. Eventually, she spotted their hotel up in the distance, just as the sound of music filled her ears. Felicity turned her head to see another street performer, this one strumming on a guitar. She began humming along with the young man’s tune as Oliver guided her around the small crowd of people that had gathered to watch him play. Just a few steps later, Felicity saw yet another chapel on their right, this one small and white with little colorful stained glass windows along the front.

She didn’t realize she was still humming in time with the guitar music until Oliver started humming along with her. The sound of his deep voice made her smile, right up until he dropped his hand from hers. Oliver let go of her, and took a step away, and Felicity frowned. But only for a second. Because the next instant, he grabbed hold of her waist, and pulled her up fully against him, lifting her right off the ground in order to spin them both in a circle.

Felicity threw her arms around his neck and squealed as Oliver twirled them together, right there on the sidewalk. They spun and spun, and the instant Oliver set her down, he took one of her hands in his own while wrapping his other arm around her waist.

Then Oliver started dancing.

Felicity didn’t know what to say as he swayed her side-to-side, right here on the sidewalk, and right in the middle of all these people. She didn’t know how to respond at all, so she just held tight to his fingers, and ran her other hand onto his shoulder, and grinned up at him. Oliver’s eyes sparkled in the glow of the streetlights, his chest rumbling against her with the new song he’d started humming. Felicity recognized Oliver’s new little tune, because it was the same song she’d hummed to him once before, just after they’d made love in her bed up at Blue. It was an Elvis song, and it was one of her favorites.

“Wise men say only fools rush in,” Felicity whispered, knowing those words so well.

Oliver pressed a kiss to her temple. “But I can’t help falling in love with you.”

He stepped away from her then, only to spin her out in a circle before pulling her back onto his chest. The moment he had her in his arms, Oliver dipped her down nearly to the ground, and then slowly brought her forward again, and kissed her lips. “Hmm, this is nice.”

Felicity looked up to his eyes. “I thought you didn’t dance.”

He slowed their movements gradually, until he came to a standstill in front of her. “I don’t, normally. But I also don’t want to have any more regrets.”

She tilted her head.   “What are you talking about?”

Oliver stared into her for a long moment. And then he released her from his hold and took a deep breath in. “I’m talking about the last night we spent together at Blue, when we made love in your bed, and then you hummed that Elvis song to me. I’m talking about how you asked me then if I had any regrets about our time together, and I told you I didn’t. And I’m talking about the fact that, from the moment I woke up in that bed without you the next morning, I realized that I did have regrets.”

Felicity whimpered with those words, and Oliver reached one of his hands to hers, entwining their fingers together. “Not about our time together,” he assured. “I don’t regret anything I ever did with you on that mountain. But I do regret the things I _didn’t_ do.”

“Wh-what things?”

“Well, I regret not curling up around you like a big spoon the night you fell asleep in my arms and I carried you into your bedroom. And I regret not dancing with you in the forest when you asked me to. But mostly, I regret letting you go that last night. I regret letting you walk out of my life, even if it was only for a few days.”

Oliver squeezed tight to her hand, and then pulled it up, releasing her fingers in order to press her palm flat over his heart. “I’ve lived with so many regrets in my life, Felicity. I’ve lived in regret for the last sixteen years. And I don’t want to live my life in regret anymore.”

The intensity of his gaze made the air catch in her lungs, and Felicity wasn’t exactly sure what kind of epiphany Oliver had reached, but she did want to be supportive. “Well, I think that’s…that’s a wonderful creed to live by.”

A soft smile lit his face. “I think it is, too. Which is why I have a confession to make.”

“A confession?”

“Yes.”

Felicity could feel the pounding of Oliver’s heart beneath her hand, and it quickened her own pulse. “What confession?”

“Do you know The Number Game we played earlier this evening?”

She huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, I vaguely recall it.”

Oliver grinned, just before taking a shaky breath in. “Well, that game had…it had ulterior motives attached to it.”

“What do you mean by ulterior motives?”

“It – it was actually meant as a positive reinforcement for you.”

“A positive reinforcement?” she echoed, her mind drifting back to that evening they’d spent in her bathtub up at Blue, when he’d rewarded her for sharing part of herself with him. “Does that mean you gave me all those orgasms as a reward for something?”

“I did.”

“Were you rewarding me for getting to spend time with my mother?” Felicity wondered. “Because if that’s the case, I’m sure she’d be available for brunch again tomorrow. I can call her right now and set it up.”

He chuckled. “No, it wasn’t for that. I mean, I’m glad I met Donna, of course, but The Number Game was more of a _preemptive_ positive reinforcement.”

“Preemptive? Well, _preemptive_ implies that you rewarded me for something I haven’t done yet, so I’m going to assume you want something from me now. Is that right?”

“Yes, that’s right. I do want something from you.”

“What do you want?”

Oliver gave her a soft smile while pressing her palm down onto his heart.

“I want your hand, Felicity.”

Her eyes widened. “My _hand_?”

He stepped closer, fastening her with his intent, brilliant blue gaze. “Do you remember two weeks ago, when we stood together in your cabin, and I told you that as close as we’d become in one week, I figured in another two weeks we’d be married?”

“Yes, I remember.”

“And do you remember me then saying I was just joking about the marriage thing?”

“Y-yes.”

“Well…I wasn’t joking.”

Felicity heard the words, and opened her mouth to reply, but nothing would come out.

Oliver stilled himself in the midst of her silence. And then he glanced down, and reached into his coat pocket, and pulled out three rings. They lay inside his palm for a moment before he held his hand out to show them to her: two platinum wedding bands, one small and one large, and a diamond engagement ring.

Felicity’s fingers curled up over his heart, her nails digging into her own palm as she focused in on the obscenely large gemstone glistening against his skin. “Dear God, Oliver, please tell me that diamond is an age-old family heirloom.”

He looked back to her face. “Do you want it to be a family heirloom?”

Felicity’s eyes zeroed in on his. “Yes. Kind of. Because at least that means you didn’t buy it this week. Did you…did you buy it this week?”

“I bought it Tuesday afternoon.”

She groaned. “You bought me an engagement ring Tuesday afternoon, before I’d even agreed to go on a second date with you?”

“Yes. I bought an engagement ring for you, and wedding bands for both of us. Right before I bought you the silly putty, if that makes a difference.”

“So you knew, from the moment you walked into my office Wednesday evening with a briefcase full of scarves and duct tape, that you were going to ask me to marry you this weekend?”

Oliver nodded. “That was my intention.”

“I…I just… _oh my God_.”

He raised one of his hands – the one not holding three rings – to her face, brushing his fingers across her jaw. “I know we only just met each other very recently, Felicity. And I know three weeks isn’t an especially long amount time…”

“It’s twenty-one _days_ , Oliver.”

“You’re right. It’s been twenty-one days since I first laid eyes on you. And now I don’t want to go another day without you. Because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with someone, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.”

Her mouth fell open. “Did you just quote _When Harry Met Sally_ to me?”

“I did,” he acknowledged with a grin. “Because I know how much you love movies, and I thought that was a particularly good scene.”

“It’s like…the best scene ever.”

“Well, you know me; I quote movies _all_ the time.”

Oliver stood there in front of her, holding the rings in his hand as he smiled into her eyes. He smiled at her with happiness and love and sheer, utter joy. And Felicity had to lock her knees to maintain an upright position.

“Mrs. Queen,” she whispered under her breath, trying to wrap her mind around what Oliver wanted: he wanted her to become _Mrs. Queen_.

“I would love it if you took my last name,” he said, his thumb running across the edge of her lip. “Or you could keep your own name, if your prefer. Although I do remember you telling me that you didn’t care for the name Smoak. But we can do that either way – whichever way you want.”

“Mrs. Queen,” Felicity repeated, not because she was making a choice in the matter, but because she couldn’t quite get over the sound of it. And then her brow crinkled when another memory sprang to her mind. “Oh good Lord, Oliver, did Rick know?”

“Who?”

“Rick – the pilot on the flight last night. He called me ‘Mrs. Queen.’ Did he know you were bringing me to Vegas to get married?”

Oliver’s hand dropped from her face and he shifted his feet against the pavement. “Well, I may have let it slip when I was talking to him up in the cockpit.”

“So Captain Rick knew before I did?”

“I’m sorry about that. It’s just…I hadn’t told anyone, and I was damn near bursting with excitement to tell _somebody_. He wasn’t supposed to say anything to you.”

“I…I can’t believe Rick knew before I did.”

“Well, since we’re on the subject, I should probably tell you that Thea knows, too.”

“ _What_?”

“When she called this morning, during our visit with Donna, I told her we were in Vegas to see your mom. And then when she called back later, she asked if we were only in Vegas to see your mom, or if we came to get married. She asked me point blank if I was going to propose to you, and I didn’t want to lie to her. So I said yes.”

“And wh-what did Thea think about that?”

“She screamed in my ear and giggled a lot and then said we’d better wait to throw a big reception party until she came back home from Paris next month.”

Felicity stared at him for a long minute, her mind struggling to process so much information at once. Then she blew out a breath. “So…did we come to Vegas to meet my mother, Oliver? Or did we come to get married?”

“Um, both?”

“Both?”

“Yes, both. Because I felt pretty strongly about us meeting each other’s families before we got married, which is why I arranged that surprise Queen family dinner two nights ago. And of course I wanted to meet your mother beforehand. Although the fact that she lives here in Vegas, where there’s a wedding chapel on nearly every street corner, just happened to be incredibly convenient. I mean, really, what are the chances of her living here? I figure they’re about as high as me tripping over a squirrel on the side of a mountain and falling into your lap. Honestly, the way I see it, this was all just meant to be.”

Felicity’s heart beat a thousand times a minute against her ribcage. She stared up at him, watching his bright eyes sparkle with joy and excitement. Which forced a strangled whimper from her throat.

Oliver shook his head. “I’m sorry Thea knew before you did, Felicity. And I’m sorry Captain Rick knew first. Although I did notice that you didn’t say anything to him.”

“I didn’t say anything about what?”

“About him calling you Mrs. Queen. You didn’t correct him at all.”

She huffed out a breath. “Well…well…that’s because it just seemed better, after what we did on that plane, if those pilots thought we were married.”

“Are you saying it’s justifiable for us to make love anywhere we want to, as long as we’re married?”

“I…I think it’s _more_ justifiable, certainly.”

He smiled down into her eyes. “Hmm. I’d say that’s yet another good reason for us to get married tonight, then.”

Felicity stared at him, and the grin on his face was so blissful and so lively and so goddamn endearing that she could hardly speak. “B-but why…why _tonight_?”

“Why _not_ tonight?”

She opened her mouth, trying to formulate an answer, as her fingers curled up tighter against his chest. And Oliver just stood there before her, smiling down into her eyes, with his hand outstretched. The rings sparkled against his skin, practically blinding her, and Felicity didn’t know what to do. So she turned her face to the side, to look around at all the other people walking and skipping and dancing and running on the strip of sidewalk around them.

Then her eyes drew to the chapel beside them: the pretty little white chapel with the colorful stained glass windows.

Felicity looked back to him. “We passed three other chapels on the way here, Oliver. Did you bring us to this one for a reason?”

“I did.”

“Is it because it’s the closest chapel to the hotel we’re staying in?”

“No. We’re actually staying in that hotel because it’s the closest one to this chapel.”

Her breath hitched. “So you…you picked this chapel for a specific reason?”

“Yes.”

“What’s the reason?”

“It’s the only chapel here that has Elvis impersonators on staff, if you want a song.”

Felicity whimpered. “I guess you researched that ahead of time?”

“I did.”

“On Tuesday?”

“Monday night, actually.”

She started trembling, her lips quivering as tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. And then she pulled her hand away from his heart, and dropped her arms to her sides. “This…this is too much. You know that, right? You know this isn’t normal, right? Good Lord, Oliver, these past three weeks have been a _whirlwind_. An emotional tornado. And we’ve only seen the best of each other.”

Oliver’s brow shot to his hairline.

Felicity shook her head immediately.   “Okay, I know that’s not true. We’ve seen the worst of each other, too. I am aware of that. But still…it’s been a fantasy. There’s been a little reality in the past few days, but it’s mostly been a fantasy.” Felicity’s frazzled mind drifted back to her mother, and to her father, and how the passion they’d shared had disintegrated over time. “The thing is,” she whispered, closing her eyes against the painful ache digging at her heart, “what if all of this fades? What if the passion we have fades, and you get bored with me?”

“ _What_?” Oliver questioned, shifting closer. “What are you talking about?”

She glanced back to him. “Up at Blue, you told me I would never bore you. ‘Nothing you do ever bores me, Felicity.’ That’s what you said. But that won’t be true forever. I’m going to bore you at some point.”

Oliver stilled with her words, and then chuckled softly, his shoulders shaking beneath his jacket. “Baby, do you know what I was doing earlier tonight, when you fell asleep between numbers three and four?”

She blushed wildly. “You – you told me you were thinking.”

“And I was. Some. But mostly I was just watching you. Did you know that you smile in your sleep? You smiled in your sleep this morning, and again when you napped this evening. And it’s the best thing I’ve ever seen. So I can pretty much guarantee that you’re never going to bore me, because you fascinate me even when you’re unconscious.”

Felicity whimpered with his words, and then clasped her hands in front of her, worrying her fingers together. And all she wanted to do was touch him again, and feel his strength, but she feared letting herself right now. “But…what if none of this lasts forever?” she whispered, scared of her own words. “Because this passion we have for each other probably can’t, and the world is definitely going to change all around us, and everything can be different in the blink of an eye. Because real life isn’t anything like what we’ve experienced in the past three weeks.”

Oliver stared at her for a long minute. He stared into her, absorbing her fears. Then he inched forward, closing the space between them. “Do you honestly think that I don’t know what real life looks like, Felicity? Because I do know. I’ve been surviving in the real world for a long time, and I know what it looks like. I also know that things between us aren’t always going to be the way they’ve been for the past three weeks. Our future will be a completely new journey. Sometimes we’re going to laugh with each other, and sometimes we’re going to cry. Sometimes I’ll be frustrated as hell with you, and sometimes you’ll want to strangle me with your bare hands. Sometimes we’ll be adventurous and climb mountains, and sometimes we’ll be content to just sit and watch movies. Sometimes we’ll have wild sex up against a window, and sometimes we’ll make love slowly in a warm, soft bed, and fall asleep in each other’s arms. And sometimes _life_ and _work_ and, God willing, _kids_ will have us so damn tired that we’ll go for weeks without being physically intimate at all. But through it all, I’ll be there with you, and you’ll be there with me, and we’ll feel everything together. And that will be more exciting and more fulfilling than anything else on this earth.”

Tears streamed freely down Felicity’s face. “Oh, _damn it,_ Oliver. You’re perfect, aren’t you? You’re so goddamn perfect.”

“I’m not, actually. I’m not perfect at all. But I’m one-thousand-percent sure that I’m perfect for you.”

She stood, trembling and crying, just staring into his brilliant blue while Oliver continued to hold the rings in his open palm. Then he took a deep breath in, and gave her a soft smile.

“Felicity, I want to marry you. Right now. Tonight.”

“Tonight,” she repeated, still not quite grasping the word.

“Yes, tonight. And I’m going to ask you to marry me in just a few minutes, but first I want to ask you another question.”

“What is it?”

He fastened his eyes to hers. “Do you doubt the fact that I’m going to be your husband one day? I mean, do you have any doubt in your mind that it’s going to happen eventually?”

“No, I don’t,” she said, her heart pounding with the truth of that admission.

“No doubt at all?”

“None.”

Oliver smiled with his entire body. “Well, if you don’t doubt that I’m your husband, and I sure as hell don’t doubt that you’re my wife, then why should we wait to make it official? Are we supposed to delay our lives for the passing of some unspecified amount of time that society approves of? And if so, how long will that be? Three weeks? Three months? Three years? Because the way I see it, three years didn’t make anything right for either of us when we were with other people. But three weeks was more than enough time for you and I to fall madly in love with each other.”

A little laugh bubbled out of Felicity’s throat as she brushed at the tears on her cheeks.

Oliver shifted his feet. “Would you rather have a big wedding?”

“No, no. I don’t need that.”

“But I would understand if you wanted a big wedding. We could do it. I could slip just this diamond on your finger for now, and we could start planning a massive wedding the moment we get home. We could be engaged as long as you like, if that makes you happy. Or…if you decide you want to do this with me now, then we can bypass the engagement part and just get married here, in this little chapel. We can say our vows to each other tonight, and have Elvis sing us songs, and then go home tomorrow and make plans to get married again with a ton of people around us. Hell, we can get married as often as you like. Two or three times a year, if you want. Maybe even once a month, or twice a month, or…”

“ _Oliver_.”

“Sorry…sorry. I know I’m babbling. It’s just that I’ve spent my entire adult life searching, Felicity. Searching for love, and for happiness, and for peace. And then one day, quite literally out of the blue, I found everything I ever wanted. I found it up on a mountain. I found it with you. And I’m done searching now. I’m done, and I know the truth of that fact deep down in my soul. I _know_ it, and time isn’t going to change it. Time doesn’t have a goddamn thing to do with this. This just _is_.”

Oliver looked deep into her eyes and exhaled slowly. “But I’ll wait, if you want to. I’ll wait until you’re ready. I’ll wait forever for you, because you’re the light in my darkness, and I just want the chance to be yours.”

Several more tears flowed down Felicity’s face, and she used both hands to brush them away, so she could focus on this man in front of her. She took a huge breath in, filling her lungs with air while her heart thudded, solid and strong, in her chest. Then she straightened herself before him, and looked into his brilliant eyes, and asked, “Do you think the Elvis impersonator in this chapel does more than just sing?”

His brow quirked up with her question.

Felicity shook her head. “Wait…that didn’t come out right. What I meant was, do you think he could legally perform the ceremony? Because we _are_ in Vegas, so I think it’s quite possible that an Elvis impersonator can also be an ordained minister. And I kind of always wanted Elvis to marry me, ever since I was a kid. I mean, not marry me as in _become my husband_ , but marry me as in _legally bind me_ to the man that I want to become my husband.”

A hopeful smile pulled up the corners of Oliver’s mouth. “Does that mean you want _me_ to become your husband?”

Felicity reached out, grasping tight to his hand. The three rings pressed together between their palms as she stared up at him. “Oliver Queen, will you marry me?”

“Good God, I thought you’d never ask.”

She laughed and Oliver joined her, the sounds so bright and sparkling to her ears.

He stood there for a moment, just looking at her, with his fingers trembling beneath hers. And then Felicity let her arm drop to her side, and waited. Oliver looked down to the rings the moment she released his hand.

“I – I guess I’ll just put these two in my pocket for now, until we get inside the chapel,” he said, his voice trembling as much as his fingers while he gathered the two wedding bands and slipped them back into his jacket.

Oliver took the diamond ring between his fingers then, and stared at it for a second, before looking back to her eyes. “I’m going to kneel down now. Because I want to.”

“Okay,” she said, her mind barely registering the group of people around them who’d stopped everything to surround her and Oliver on the sidewalk.

A collective gasp moved through the gathered crowd when Oliver sunk to knees before her and held the ring up in his hand. “ _Felicity_ ,” he breathed, moisture pooling in the corners of his eyes. “Would you make me the happiest man on the face of the earth?”

She clasped her hands in front of her, and giggled, and nodded.

Oliver grinned up at her. “Yes?”

“Yes,” she said, sinking down to join him on the ground.

Oliver grabbed her just as Felicity threw her arms around his neck, and the crowd went wild around them, clapping and whooping and cheering. But Felicity could barely hear anything but the beating of her heart while she held onto Oliver as tight as she could. She didn’t release her firm grip on him until he kissed her cheek, and then brought his mouth to hers, to plant several more kisses on her lips.

“I love you,” he whispered, the words fanning over her skin.

“I love you, Oliver. I love, love, love you.”

His arms banded harder around her, and he lifted them both together as he stood, pulling Felicity’s feet straight up off the ground. She just held on to him, and giggled uncontrollably, because it felt like she was flying.

The crowd continued cheering for them when he finally set her back down.

Oliver gathered her hand in his, and slipped the diamond ring on her finger, and then looked into her eyes. “You ready?”

Felicity nodded. “I’m ready,” she said.

Then they smiled, and laughed, and flew up the chapel steps together.

...

A/N:  Hey guys!  Thanks for being here!  I hope this was everything you wanted it to be, and I'd love to hear your thoughts :)Tina

Up Next...Epilogue:  Time


	18. Epilogue:  Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there sweethearts! Thanks so much for coming back for the ending of this story! This is just a bit of fluff to tie up some loose ends :)

Oliver woke at seven a.m. on Saturday morning, his internal alarm clock not allowing him a minute more sleep. Careful to exit off the mattress quietly, he snuck out of the bedroom, used the bathroom at the end of the hallway, and then proceeded into the home gym. He did his usual hundred sit-ups and hundred push-ups, and then turned on the TV to watch the business news as he stepped onto the treadmill. His eyes scanned the stock market data while he ran, his mind reviewing any impact the figures might have on Queen Consolidated.

An hour later he stepped off the treadmill, and the phone rang almost immediately. When Oliver saw the number, he smiled. “Hey, Tommy,” he spoke into the receiver while grabbing a towel to wipe his brow.

“Oliver, buddy! You ready for tomorrow? I don’t think you could possibly be ready.”

“I’m ready,” Oliver insisted, unable to scrub the grin off his face while listening to the ribbings of the man who’d become such a good friend in the past three years. “Are _you_?”

“More than ready. Merlyn Global is _finally_ going to take down Queen Consolidated.”

Oliver huffed. “In your dreams.”

“Nope, not this time. We are done being defeated by you. Done!”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Because your star player is benched. She told me yesterday.”

“You know, I can hit the ball fairly well myself,” Oliver defended, even though he knew Tommy made a fair point. Without Felicity on the team, the chances that QC would win the quarterly softball game against the Starling branch of Merlyn Global were slim to none.

“You’re a fine player, Oliver, but you’re nowhere near as good as your wife, and you know it. Besides, I’ve got Laurel playing tomorrow, too.”

“Laurel? You know she can’t play. Only employees and their family, remember?”

The phone went silent for a split second, which was a rather long time for Tommy to be silent, and Oliver’s brow furrowed.

“Well, actually,” Tommy sighed, “that brings up a question I have for you.”

“Yeah? What’s the question?”

“I don’t suppose you’d consider being my best man?”

Oliver took a moment to absorb that news. Then his chest swelled with happiness. “God, Tommy, really? Did you ask her to marry you?”

“I did. And she actually said yes, for some odd reason. So now I’m asking you to stand up with me.”

“Of course I will. I’d…I’d be honored.”

“Good. Then you’re officially my best man. Although I’m still going to wipe the softball field with your ass tomorrow.”

“Damn, you probably will,” Oliver admitted with a chuckle. “Honestly, with Felicity on the bench, we don’t stand a chance against you. I won’t go so far as to beg for softball mercy, but if I could maintain some of my dignity in front of my wife, that would be nice.”

“Ugh. Are you really playing the sympathy card right now? You know I’d do anything for the two of you.”

Oliver smiled. “Yeah, I do know. You’re a good friend. And I sure as hell am happy for you – you and Laurel, both. You’ll have to come over for dinner soon, to celebrate.”

“We’d love to. Whenever Felicity feels up to it. How is she today?”

“She’s still sleeping. But I’ll tell her you asked about her.”

“Please do. And have a good day. Be sure to rest up for tomorrow.”

“Will do. Congratulations, Tommy.”

“Thanks, buddy. Who’d have thought I would ever make it this far, right? You know it’s all because of your wife.”

A soft smile curved up Oliver’s lips. “She’s amazing, isn’t she?”

“She is. See you tomorrow, Oliver.”

“Yeah, tomorrow.”

“Bye.”

Oliver still smiled after he hung up the phone. He walked back down the hallway, and snuck into the bedroom again, careful not to wake his sleeping beauty. Creeping softly into the bathroom, Oliver took a quick shower and then came out to get dressed. Felicity still didn’t stir, even when he’d finished throwing on his clothes, so Oliver left again to head to the kitchen.

He walked purposefully through the living room, determined to fix a presentable breakfast for his wife, but his footsteps faltered when his toes landed abruptly on a squeaky toy. Oliver grumbled for a moment with the discomfort, as well as the jolting sound. But then he found himself smiling when he picked up the bright object and held it in his hands. “Connor is going to be missing this,” he realized aloud, picturing the elder of John and Lyla’s twin boys. The Diggle family had been over for dinner just last night, and Connor had apparently chucked his favorite toy onto the floor and forgotten about it.

Oliver couldn’t help smiling as he reached up to set the toy on the mantle of the fireplace. When he laid the little squeaky thing down on the brick, his eyes drew to the row of picture frames lined across the ledge. Felicity had placed several photos here, one by one, over the past three years. Oliver loved seeing these frozen moments of time whenever he passed by; he loved seeing the story of their lives set out in front of him, in a series of perfect memories.

The first frame on the ledge was the photo Felicity had taken up at Blue, the blurry green-and-yellow image of the tree that may or may not have held a fantastical bird. Felicity had been shy about leaving the photo out, but Oliver insisted on it. They’d been asked several times over the years what the picture was of, and Oliver simply explained that Felicity was a photographer at heart. His answer often drew a strange look from whoever asked, but Oliver only smiled in response. Because that picture was for them, just the two of them, and no one else really needed to know what it meant, or why it meant so much.

Oliver’s eyes drew to the frame beside Felicity’s bird photo then. This frame held an image of her, and of him, and of the Elvis who married them that night in Vegas, three weeks after they’d first met. Oliver loved looking at Felicity’s eyes in this photo, because they were so happy and sparkling. He remembered seeing them filled with joy as she promised to love and cherish him for their rest of their lives. He remembered them filling with happy tears as he vowed the same to her. And he remembered looking into them when he and Felicity woke in their hotel bedroom the next day, naked and tangled up with each other. Oliver remembered spending that lazy Sunday morning in bed with his wife, and never feeling happier in his entire life than he did right then.

The next photo on the ledge was of the two of them a month later, surrounded by family and friends here in their home, when they’d hosted a reception to celebrate their marriage. They’d waited until Thea got back from Paris to have the party, but Thea wasn’t actually in this photo, because she’d been the one to take it. She was, however, in the next picture on the mantle: a panoramic view of the entire Queen family up on a mountain together, on vacation. Thea had insisted on going along with everyone on that particular mountain climbing adventure, because she wanted to see how Oliver coped with the great outdoors. He was happy to say that he did exceptionally well, especially with Felicity beside him. And he was even happier to know that he actually made his sister proud.

Oliver enjoyed that vacation, but not as much as the one represented by the next framed photo. This picture was of him and Felicity on the beach in Bali, where they’d gone to celebrate their second anniversary. They’d renewed their vows while standing together on that white sand, just because they could. Oliver absorbed the sight of Felicity in the photo – her wind-tousled hair and sun-kissed skin and her bright, beautiful smile. He remembered how he’d worshipped every inch of her body later that night. And how they’d decided, on that vacation, that they were ready to start trying for a family when they got back home.

The next photo on the mantle was of the Diggle family, standing behind Oliver and Felicity as they each held one of John and Lyla’s twin boys in their arms. The Diggles had made Oliver and Felicity the twins’ godparents, and the christening ceremony was full of joy and hugs and tears. Oliver’s heart swelled as he thought about that moment, and also with the knowledge that John and Lyla would be the godparents to the new life Felicity carried inside her now.

Oliver settled Connor’s squeaky toy beside the last picture on the fireplace ledge. This frame held Felicity’s ultrasound photo from a few months ago, when they’d found out that they were having a little girl. Oliver could see their baby’s tiny, sweet face in the black and white image, and he swore she was smiling. “You’ve got so many toys waiting for you to play with,” he spoke to the photo. “And so many people who can’t wait to see you.”

He touched the edge of the frame for a moment, and smiled back at his daughter, just before he turned toward the kitchen. Once he stepped trough the swinging door, Oliver filled a breakfast tray with croissants, jelly, orange juice, and milk. Then he added a Twinkie in the middle. He chuckled.

Carrying the tray back through the living room and across the hall, he stepped quietly into the bedroom, careful not to rattle the dishes. He moved over to the mattress and set the tray on the nightstand closest to Felicity. Oliver gazed down at her gold hair spread wildly across her pillow, and her mouth hanging slightly open, as she continued to snore softly in the cool air. He let his eyes drift down to her left hand, where it lay against her belly. Her very big, very pregnant belly. The wedding rings on her finger glistened in the light seeping through the curtains, and Oliver smiled at the sight.

Felicity wore one of his shirts, and the sight of her in his oversized button-down always reminded him of the first morning they’d enjoyed in this room together, after the first time she’d spent the entire night in his arms. Since the moment they’d come home from Vegas as husband and wife, Felicity often wore his shirts around the house. But she’d only recently started wearing them to bed, because they fit better around the baby. Although her belly had gotten so big now that she left the bottom half of the shirt unbuttoned, which allowed Oliver a perfect view of her bare skin.

He reached out to touch his wife’s face, drawing his fingers down her cheek and watching bemusedly as her lips twitched up. Then he moved around to the other side of the bed and crawled beneath the sheets, edging over on the mattress until his chest met her back. Oliver draped his arm across her hip, smoothing his hand onto her stomach. The moment his palm settled down on Felicity’s skin, he felt a firm kick against his fingers and he grinned.

“Did you bring it?” Felicity’s sleepy voice floated softly into the air.

“Of course. I know better than to keep my pregnant wife away from her Twinkie first thing in the morning.”

“You’re the best husband ever,” she declared, stretching her limbs out before snuggling back into his chest again.

Oliver pressed a kiss into her hair. “Guess who called me this morning?”

“Mmm…Tommy?”

“How did you know?”

“He told me yesterday in his session that he was going to call you. I wanted to tell you about it last night, but I couldn’t, especially since Tommy actually reminded me that I couldn’t say anything, due to doctor-patient confidentiality. Which was frustrating, believe me.”

Oliver chuckled. “So I suppose you know he proposed to Laurel?”

“Yeah, I do. It’s wonderful, isn’t it?”

“It is. And I know it’s all because of you. I remember him telling me up at Blue that he would probably get better if he could see you all the time. And the moment Merlyn Global opened their branch here, and he started coming to you regularly, I could see him improving.”

Felicity shifted back a bit, turning her face to Oliver’s and smiling sleepily up at him. “You give me too much credit.”

He drew his hand to her forehead, running his fingers across her hairline, all the way down to her jaw. “No, I don’t. You’re a miracle worker. Always have been.”

She sighed with his touch. “Well, I assure you it’s not a miracle at all; Tommy is just finally willing to put in the effort to work on things. And it doesn’t hurt that Laurel loves him to pieces and is willing to help.”

“It still sounds like a miracle to me,” Oliver insisted, leaning down to kiss her lips before rubbing his nose against hers. “And even if you’re not a miracle worker, you’re _my_ miracle.”

Felicity grinned. “You sure are mushy this morning, Mr. Queen.”

“I have a lot of reasons to be, Mrs. Queen,” he said, glancing down to follow the movement of his hand as he eased it across Felicity’s neck, and over her chest, and down to her bare belly. “How is our little prizefighter doing today?”

Felicity closed her eyes and hummed. “Mmm…she practiced really hard last night. Kept me up for two hours. She likes to try out her kickboxing moves on my bladder.”

“You were up for two hours? You should have woken me.”

“No, baby, you need your rest. Besides, I like watching you sleep.”

“Well, okay, but…you’ll wake me in the middle of the night after she’s born, right? You know I’m really good at changing diapers now. I can’t even remember the last time I dry-heaved. I’d dare say I’m an expert.”

Felicity laughed. “Remind me to thank Digg and Lyla again, the next time I see them, for having three kids for you to practice on.”

“Will do,” he said, smiling with the thought of the three Diggle kids, and how full the house had felt when they were all here last night. Oliver’s hand wandered across Felicity’s stomach and he sighed. “I guess I’ll have another kid to practice on in six months.”

Her face scrunched. “ _Six months_? I’m due in _three weeks_.”

“Yes, I know that,” Oliver insisted with a chuckle, but his laughter faded as his mind wandered. “I’m just thinking about the _other_ kid.”

“Oh, right. Sorry. I’m still half asleep.” She worked to open her eyelids fully in order to focus on him. “You’re still upset about Thea being pregnant, aren’t you?”

“No, I’m not upset, I’m just…”

Felicity brought her hand up to his face, skimming her fingers across his jaw. “I know you’re upset. It’s okay. You can always talk to me.”

Oliver exhaled, resting further into the warmth and strength of her touch. “You’re right; I’m still upset. I just don’t see why they didn’t get married first.”

She shook her head against the pillow. “Did you expect them to wait to have sex until after they were married?”

“Maybe,” he grumbled.

“Roy adores Thea, Oliver. And she has an engagement ring on her finger now.”

“Yeah…a little _late_.”

Felicity huffed out a laugh. “You know you love Roy.”

“Of course I do. I just didn’t think, when I brought him here to Starling to work for me, that he would knock up my sister.”

“Well, you are the one who introduced them. And besides, accidents happen. You and I certainly didn’t wait until we were married to have sex.”

“No, but I had those wedding rings on your finger less than three weeks later.”

She patted his hand with hers, the rings shimmering in the sunlight streaming through the windows. “You did do that, didn’t you?”

“I did.”

Felicity squeezed onto Oliver’s fingers. “Just try to be happy for them, baby. Roy loves Thea more than anything in the world.”

“I know he does, and I’m trying to let Thea lead her own life. In fact, I think I’ve been really good about not interfering. But it’s hard for me to let go of the brotherly protectiveness.”

“You’re a wonderful brother to Thea, and you’re going to be a fantastic uncle to their baby. And you’ll have a good five months of Dad-experience before Roy becomes a father, so he’ll need you for guidance and support. You know how he looks up to you.”

A smile crept onto Oliver’s lips. “I know. Roy is family. I’ve never been upset about that part. It’s just that sometimes my growly grizzly bear side still comes out.”

Felicity quirked her brow. “Just _sometimes_?”

He narrowed his eyes at her, and then ran his hand up the inside of her arm, where he knew she was most ticklish. “You take that back,” he insisted as she giggled and squirmed beneath his touch. “You know you call me your teddy bear a lot more than you call me your grizzly bear.”

“Okay, okay…stop, stop,” she panted, trying to catch her breath between laughs. “You can’t tickle me in the morning; it makes me hungry. God, where is that Twinkie?”

Oliver ceased his tickle torture and reached over Felicity’s head to the tray on the nightstand. Grasping the spongy dessert in his hand, he barely got it off the plate before Felicity grabbed hold of it and shoved a huge bite into her mouth. She groaned in bliss while she chewed, and Oliver couldn’t help but chuckle.

“You know, I talked to my mom yesterday and she asked how you’re doing, of course, and I told her your Twinkie craving has reached rampant levels. So she said she’s going to have a case of them delivered to the house this weekend.”

“A _case_?” Felicity protested with a half-full mouth before swallowing the last of her dessert. “I’m not _that_ bad! There’s no way I’ll finish a _case_ in the next three weeks. Good Lord, I’m already _huge_. I can’t even play softball!”

“You’re not huge,” Oliver assured, smoothing his hand down her arm and across her belly. “You’re just busy growing a new life inside you. And besides, whatever Twinkies are leftover we can send back to my mother. She’ll tell us that she’s returning them to the company, and then she’ll secretly stash them away and eat them herself.”

Felicity burst out laughing, which shook her whole body against his. Oliver shifted closer to her, bringing his legs up under hers and spooning her tight, so he could feel as much of her as possible. He watched the sunlight caress her face as she laughed, and he dragged his hand across her waist and over her thigh and up to her hip, curling his fingers into her skin.

Felicity’s giggles ceased immediately, the moment he gripped onto her hipbone, and her lips parted with a breathy moan. Dipping his head down, Oliver pressed a kiss to her mouth. He spent a long minute hovering there, running his tongue past her lips and into her smooth wet, warmth. “Mmm…you taste like frosting,” he mumbled once he managed to stop kissing her.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. You know I love it.”

Felicity smiled up at him, but her eyes stayed closed. Her hair was so gold, her lips so pink, her skin so soft, and Oliver let his gaze roam over the curves of her body. The pregnancy had made her breasts fuller, and increased her belly size exponentially, and also made the smooth mounds of her ass even rounder. She was just so damn beautiful, even more so this minute than ever before, and he wasn’t sure how that was even possible.

Her hips shifted beneath his hands, which rubbed her ass into his lower abs, and Oliver groaned. His fingers drifted from her hip to her thigh and then back up again, as he leaned down to nuzzle his nose into her hair. “Felicity?”

“Mmm?”

“I think you should pick a number for me.”

“Ooh…do we get to play The Number Game today?”

“Definitely.”

“Any number between one and ten?”

He smoothed his hand back down her leg, moving slowly closer to the juncture of her thighs. “Actually, since you had such a rough night, I think you should pick any number between one and a hundred.”

“One and a _hundred_? My goodness. That’s bold, even for you.”

“A bit bold, perhaps, but certainly justified. I mean, I think it’s only right that I offer up rewards to the amazing, miraculous, gorgeous mother of my child.”

A wicked little grin pulled up her pink lips. “Hmm, in that case, I’ll pick ninety-nine.”

Oliver’s brow rose. “Ninety-nine?”

“Well, picking a hundred sounds a bit greedy, so…”

He chuckled, but his fingers squeezed against her skin with the thought. “I suppose we should get started then, if we’re going to accomplish all of them by the end of the day.”

She reached her hand to his, threading their fingers together. “Baby, I don’t doubt for one second that you can give me ninety-nine orgasms. But I’m pretty sure if you do, then I will go into labor.”

Oliver shrugged. “That’s okay by me; I’m so ready to see our little girl.”

Felicity tugged on his hand, bringing them both to rest over her belly. “I am too, but I think she could use a couple more weeks of baking in here.”

His fingers eased across the warm roundness beneath his palm. “Well then, maybe not ninety-nine. But you should definitely pick another number.”

“Okay. I’ll pick another number,” Felicity agreed, a drowsy yawn sneaking out of her mouth before her shoulders slumped against the mattress. “Just as soon as I wake up.”

“As soon as you wake up? Aren’t you awake now? I’ve been waiting for you for _hours_.”

“Hmm…can I just have one little extra nap? Please? It’s very tiring growing a world-renowned boxer inside you.”

Oliver laughed, and curled his body even tighter around hers. “Alright, you can nap for a bit. But I’m staying here with you.”

“Well, I’m certainly not going to argue with that,” she said, her voice already thickening, her eyes remaining closed as her body settled farther into the sheets.

He watched her with delighted amusement, shaking his head when he felt her breathing even out almost immediately. Oliver wouldn’t have believed she could be this sleepy right after eating that much sugar, if he hadn’t seen it a dozen other times during the pregnancy.

“I love you, Oliver,” Felicity sighed through parted lips.

He leaned down to place a kiss in her hair. “I love you _more_.”

Felicity’s nose crinkled at the statement, but apparently she didn’t have the energy to correct him right now. Instead, she just snuggled her back further into his chest, and ran her fingers over top of his hand. A moment later, her soft snores drifted into the air.

Oliver smiled with that calming sound. He settled his head onto the pillow beside her, and stared at her gold curls for a moment, before he closed his eyes. Threading their fingers more intricately together, he held both of their hands in place over Felicity’s belly. Then he took a deep breath in, and released it slowly. He let his body relax into hers, let himself absorb the comfort of them, together here in this soft, warm bed. Oliver let himself be at peace. And then he fell asleep.

...

 **A/N** :  I would just like to send out a great big hug to everyone who has ever read, kudo'd, favorited, followed, or commented on this story; your support has honestly meant the world :)  I hope you enjoyed this fluffy little wrap-up!  I am starting work on a new story soon.  If you happen to be on Tumblr and would liked to be tagged for that fic (or if you just want to say hello) I'm TinaDay3W on there, too.  I hope you have a wonderful summer and thanks for spending some of it with me :)Tina


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